Three months later, the Comte de Brambourg gave a supper to du Tillet, Nucingen, Eugene de Rastignac, Maxime de Trailles, and Henri de Marsay. The amphitryon accepted with much nonchalance the half-consolatory condolences they made to him as to his rupture with the house of Soulanges.
“You can do better,” said Maxime de Trailles.
“How much money must a man have to marry a demoiselle de Grandlieu?” asked Philippe of de Marsay.
“You? They wouldn’t give you the ugliest of the six for less than ten millions,” answered de Marsay insolently.
“Bah!” said Rastignac. “With an income of two hundred thousand francs you can have Mademoiselle de Langeais, the daughter of the marquis; she is thirty years old, and ugly, and she hasn’t a sou; that ought to suit you.”
“I shall have ten millions two years from now,” said Philippe Bridau.
“It is now the 16th of January, 1829,” cried du Tillet, laughing. “I have been hard at work for ten years and I have not made as much as that yet.”
“We’ll take counsel of each other,” said Bridau; “you shall see how well I understand finance.”
“How much do you really own?” asked Nucingen.
“Three millions, excluding my house and my estate, which I shall not sell; in fact, I cannot, for the property is now entailed and goes with the title.”