THE AMERICAN
people, who take themselves all too seriously, expecting something of you. I live," he added with a sigh, "beneath the eyes of my admirable mother."
"Is n't it then your own fault? What's to hinder your ranging?" Newman asked.
"There's a delightful simplicity in that question. Everything in life is to hinder it. To begin with I have n't a penny."
"Well, I had n't a penny when I began to range."
"Ah, but your poverty was your capital! Being of your race and stamp, it was impossible you should remain what you were born, and being born poor—do I understand it?—it was therefore inevitable you should become as different from that as possible. You were in a position that makes one's mouth water; you looked round you and saw a world full of things you had only to step up to and take hold of. When I was twenty I looked round me and saw a world with everything ticketed 'Don't touch,' and the deuce of it was that the ticket seemed meant only for me. I could n't go into business, I could n't make money, because I was a Bellegarde. I could n't go into politics because I was a Bellegarde—the Bellegardes don't recognise the Bonapartes. I could n't go into literature because I was a dunce. I could n't marry a rich girl because no Bellegarde had for ages married a roturière and it was n't urgent I should deviate. We shall have to face it, however—you'll see. Marriageable heiresses, de notre bord, are not to be had for nothing; it must be name for name and fortune for fortune. The only thing I could do was to go and fight for the Pope. That
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