“That’s a good idea; work—it will be a little change for you, and it helps to reform wayward youth. My uncle will think so. I’ll speak to him about you when I see him.”
Auguste dared not say that he would like to have him make a point of seeing his uncle. The young men, having had an excellent dinner, left Auguste, making all sorts of proffers of service, and renewing their assurances of devotion; and he betook himself to the lovely woman who had promised to assist him and who was to have mentioned him to her cousin.
Ladies are beyond question better advocates than men; it certainly is easier for them to succeed, for they obtain with a smile what has been denied again and again to obscure merit, to shamefaced poverty. This fact does credit to our gallantry at least, if not to our justice, and it is in human nature to submit to be seduced by beauty.
Madame Valmont was greatly interested in Auguste, who accompanied her excellently on the piano, and sang nocturnes in her salon with excellent taste. She had kept her word by inviting her cousin that evening, in order to introduce Auguste to him. The cousin was a man of fashion, who was received in the best society; addicted to making promises freely and forgetting on the morrow what he had promised the night before; but desirous of playing the patron even when he did not patronize, and deeming himself a mortal of superior mould before whom everyone should bow.
Having listened to Auguste’s rendition of a nocturne, he informed his cousin that he sang divinely and that he would be delighted to do something for him. When he said this, the cousin expected very humble acknowledgments from Auguste; but our friend was not the man to bend the knee in order to obtain favors from anyone. The man who is conscious of his own worth never stoops to humble himself before his fellowmen, and to lavish obsequious flattery on those whose merit consists solely in their rank and wealth—very slender merit indeed in the eyes of those whose deserts are genuine, but very great in the eyes of the multitude, who prostrate themselves before fine clothes, decorations and the glitter of gold pieces, and would dance under a monkey’s window if the monkey would toss money to them. Numerus stultorum est infinitus.
Auguste, who was not of the right temperament to dance for a monkey, did not lavish compliments on the cousin with the air of beseeching his patronage; and the cousin, who was accustomed to be lauded and fawned upon by the poor devils who desired his countenance, was amazed that the young gentleman who had been commended to his attention, did not fulfil his devoirs by paying homage to him. So that he began to consider that Dalville was not such a good singer after all; and to put the finishing touch to his disgust, Auguste, who had bet on him when he took his seat at the écarté table, presumed to criticise his style of play and to try to prove to him that he lost a game by his stupidity. The cousin was exasperated, and he left his cousin’s house, declaring that the young man whom she had taken under her protection was incapable of filling the most trivial office in the service of the government.
“Well!” said Auguste to Madame Valmont, at the end of the evening, “when may I call upon the minister’s secretary?”
“Really, I don’t know what to say. My cousin did not seem very well disposed when he went away. But what a strange man you are! Instead of trying to make a favorable impression on him, you expressed an opinion contrary to his several times, you said nothing agreeable to him, and you annoyed him at the card table.”
“Oh, yes, madame, I understand: I am not worthy of an office because I did not cringe and crawl, and because I presumed to demonstrate to that gentleman that he did wrong to play his second queen.”
“I don’t say that, my dear Auguste. However, it was a mere spasm of ill-temper; I will see my cousin again and speak to him, and I still have hopes.”