Then what was he to do?--write? Alas! the poor child did not know how to read--she knew how to do nothing, except love; and that is very little in these days. Frédéric rarely went into society, for he did not enjoy himself. In vain did pretty little Madame Dernange renew her provocations; he paid no heed to them; and she, piqued by his indifference, employed all the resources of coquetry to bring him to her feet. But Frédéric did not fall into the trap, for he had learned what true love is; he realized the worthlessness of all those promptings of self-esteem, those caprices of the senses, which one mistakes for love until he has learned to know the real thing. The count treated his son coldly, but never alluded to his adventures in Dauphiné. On the contrary, he avoided the subject; and when Frédéric, desirous to obtain some idea of his father's feelings, ventured to mention his stay at Grenoble, to speak of the country in that neighborhood, and of the pretty village of Vizille, a stern glance from the count closed his mouth and forbade him to continue. Frédéric called again and again at the various lodgings which Dubourg had occupied in Paris; but he could not find him at any of them. He went to Ménard, and urged him to do his utmost to unearth Dubourg, who, he said, had perhaps returned to the capital, but was afraid to call upon him, Frédéric, for fear of meeting Monsieur de Montreville. "Suppose I find him?" said Ménard. "Send him to me at once." "Send him to you! God forbid! Monsieur le comte your father spoke very harshly to him when he saw him in the costume of Hippolyte. To be sure, the costume was unbecoming." "Tell him to write to me; what is there to prevent his meeting me somewhere else, if he's afraid to come to the house? Am I watched? Ah! Monsieur Ménard, I can't stand it any longer. Every day adds to my torture! I must see her again, or at least hear something from her." "Hear from whom?" "From the woman I adore, the woman whom--I was compelled to desert, in order to return to Paris with you." "Ah! I understand--the little maid of the forest. Monsieur Dubourg told me that you had furnished a lodging for her and had taken her away with you." "Would to God that I had! I should be with her now. Ah! my dear Monsieur Ménard, if you were a different man---- But you are kind-hearted and sympathetic; you are fond of me, and you would restore me to life if you would consent to go to her and tell her that I love her more dearly than ever!"