“What has become of the ex-minister of agriculture and commerce, the Comte Popinot, whom we called the little Anselme Popinot, in the days of the greatness and decadence of César Birotteau?” “He followed the exiled princes to England.” “And Du Tillet?” “Du Tillet is no longer in France.” “Did he leave for political reasons?” “Is it possible that you did not hear of his failure! He absconded one day, with the till, ruined by Jenny Cadine and Suzanne du Val-Noble.” “Where are the children of Madame de Montsauf, that celestial creature, so justly called le Lys dans la Vallée?” “Jacques died of consumption, leaving Madeleine sole mistress of an enormous fortune. In spite of what M. de Balzac said, I always supposed that she was secretly in love with Félix de Vandernesse. She is in that first avant-scène. She is an old maid now, but is none the less an adorable woman, and the true daughter of her mother.” “Do you know the name of that individual who has just entered her box?” “That is Canalis.” “Canalis, the great poet, who played such an important part in the life of Modeste Mignon?” “Precisely.” “I had thought that he was younger.” “He has grown quite old during these last few years. He has turned his attention to politics, and you may notice how politics hollows the cheeks and silvers the hair of poetry. He would bankrupt Golconda, however, and he is now attempting to win Mlle. de Montsauf and her millions. But look to the left, in that first box from the door of the gallery, and see whether you do not recognize one of the most curious physiognomies of the ‘Comédie Humaine.’” “Do you mean that stout woman?” “Yes; it is Madame Nourrisau.” “Vautrin’s aunt?” “In flesh and blood, especially in flesh. There is the formidable hag who went one day to the son of the Baron Hulot and proposed, for fifty thousand francs, to rid him of Madame Marneffe. You must have read about it in ‘La Cousine Bette.’” “She is not alone, I see.” “She is with her husband.” “Her husband? Is it possible that she found one?” “You forget that she is five or six times millionaire, and also the general rule that where it rains millions husbands sprout. Her name is now Madame Gaudessart, née Vautrin.” “Is it the illustrious Gaudessart who is the husband of that horrible creature?” “Legally so, I beg you to believe.” “Speaking of the ‘Cousine Bette,’ can you tell me anything of Wencelas Steinbock and his wife?” “They are perfectly happy. It is young Hulot who misbehaves; his wife is in that box over there, with the Steinbocks. Hulot has told them that he will join them later, and has probably stated that he had some urgent law business to attend to; but the truth is that he is behind the scenes at the opera. Hulot is not his father’s son for nothing.” At this point M. de Rastignac smiled affectionately at a white-haired musician, who was tuning his violin. “Is that the Cousin Pons?” I asked.