“Ah! if I have been like that, she would not have preferred Croisenois to me!” The more his reason was offended by the grotesque affectations of the prince the more he despised himself for not having them. It was impossible for self-disgust to be carried further.
The prince still finding him distinctly melancholy, said to him as they re-entered Strasbourg, “Come, my dear fellow, have you lost all your money, or perhaps you are in love with some little actress.
“The Russians copy French manners, but always at an interval of fifty years. They have now reached the age of Louis XV.”
These jests about love brought the tears to Julien’s eyes. “Why should I not consult this charming man,” he suddenly said to himself.
“Well, yes, my dear friend,” he said to the prince, “you see in me a man who is very much in love and jilted into the bargain. A charming woman who lives in a neighbouring town has left me stranded here after three passionate days, and the change kills me.”
Using fictitious names, he described to the prince Mathilde’s conduct and character.
“You need not finish,” said Korasoff. “In order to give you confidence in your doctor, I will finish the story you have confided to me. This young woman’s husband enjoys an enormous income, or even more probably, she belongs herself to the high nobility of the district. She must be proud about something.”
Julien nodded his head, he had no longer the courage to speak. “Very good,” said the prince, “here are three fairly bitter pills that you will take without delay.
“1. See madame ——. What is her name, any way?”
“Madame de Dubois.”