money?' and finally, to be able to renew at pleasure the pink rosettes
that adorn the ears of three thoroughbreds and the lining of your hat?

"To such inquiry any ordinary young man (and we ourselves that are not
ordinary men) would reply that the happiness is incomplete; that it is
like the Madeleine without the altar; that a man must love and be
loved, or love without return, or be loved without loving, or love at
cross purposes. Now for happiness as a mental condition.

"In January 1823, after Godefroid de Beaudenord had set foot in the
various social circles which it pleased him to enter, and knew his way
about in them, and felt himself secure amid these joys, he saw the
necessity of a sunshade--the advantage of having a great lady to
complain of, instead of chewing the stems of roses bought for
fivepence apiece of Mme. Prevost, after the manner of the callow
youngsters that chirp and cackle in the lobbies of the Opera, like
chickens in a coop. In short, he resolved to centre his ideas, his
sentiments, his affections upon a woman, _one woman_?--LA PHAMME!
Ah! . . . .

"At first he conceived the preposterous notion of an unhappy passion,
and gyrated for a while about his fair cousin, Mme. d'Aiglemont, not
perceiving that she had already danced the waltz in Faust with a
diplomatist. The year '25 went by, spent in tentatives, in futile
flirtations, and an unsuccessful quest. The loving object of which he
was in search did not appear. Passion is extremely rare; and in our
time as many barriers have been raised against passion in social life
as barricades in the streets. In truth, my brothers, the 'improper' is
gaining upon us, I tell you!