At first she thought of keeping the letter; but on
second thoughts she burned it.
"Madame had just received such a fine love-letter; and she read it,"
said Caroline to the housemaid.
"I should never have thought that of madame," replied the other, quite
surprised.
That evening Madame de Listomere went to a party at the Marquis de
Beauseant's, where Rastignac would probably betake himself. It was
Saturday. The Marquis de Beauseant was in some way a connection of
Monsieur de Rastignac, and the young man was not likely to miss
coming. By two in the morning Madame de Listomere, who had gone there
solely for the purpose of crushing Eugene by her coldness, discovered
that she was waiting in vain. A brilliant man--Stendhal--has given the
fantastic name of "crystallization" to the process which Madame de
Listomere's thoughts went through before, during, and after this
evening.
Four days later Eugene was scolding his valet.
"Ah ca! Joseph; I shall soon have to send you away, my lad."
"What is it, monsieur?"
"You do nothing but make mistakes. Where did you carry those letters I
gave you Saturday?"
Joseph became stolid. Like a statue in some cathedral porch, he stood
motionless, entirely absorbed in the labors of imagination.
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