36 Another meaningful name for a Rênal child? Louis-Xavier-Stanislas was the full name of King Louis XVIII (born 1755, reigned 1814–15, 1815–24). The ultra Monsieur de Rênal would have chosen this name.
The Red and the Black
Chapter Six: Boredom I no longer know what I am, Or what I'm doing. —Mozart's Figaro1 With the grace and vivacity natural to her, when she could not be seen, Madame de Rênal was leaving the drawing room, going out the French window leading into the garden, when near the main doorway she noticed a young peasant, really still a child; he was extremely pale and had obviously just been weeping. He wore a very white shirt, and under his arm was carrying an absolutely spotless jacket of violet ratteen. The little peasant's complexion was so pale, his eyes so gentle, that Madame de Rênal's sometimes romantic spirit thought, at first, that this could be a young girl in disguise, coming to ask a favor of His Honor the Mayor. She felt sorry for this poor creature, held motionless at the entryway, clearly not daring to lift his hand toward the doorbell. Madame de Rênal went over, forgetting for a moment the bitter grief she'd been feeling as she contemplated the tutor's coming. Julien, facing the door, did not see her approaching. He shivered when her sweet voice said, so close to his ear: "What have you come for, my child?" Julien turned quickly and, struck by the charm of Madame de Rênal's expression, lost a bit of his shyness. And then, stunned by her beauty, he forgot everything, even what he was doing there. Madame de Rênal repeated her question. "I've come to be the tutor, madame," he finally replied, deeply embarrassed by the tears he'd been wiping away as best he was able. Madame de Rênal was silent, bewildered; they were standing very close, looking at each other. Julien had never seen anyone so beautifully dressed, especially a woman with such a dazzling complexion, speaking to him in so sweet a voice. Madame de Rênal looked at the heavy tears on the young peasant's cheeks, which had been at first so exceedingly pale, and which were now so rosy. And then she began to laugh, with all the foolish gaiety of a young girl, scoffing at herself; she could not believe how happy she was. This, this was the tutor she had imagined as a dry, badly dressed priest, snarling and beating her children! "Really, my dear sir?" she finally said. "You really know Latin?" Being addressed as "sir" so astonished Julien that, for an instant, he hesitated. "Yes, madame," he answered shyly. Madame de Rênal was so overjoyed that she actually dared to ask him: "You won't snarl too much at my poor children?" "Me, snarl at them?" Julien said, astonished. "Why?" "Indeed, sir," she added, after a small silence and in a voice more and more emotional, "you'll be good to them, you promise me?" Hearing himself again spoken to as "sir," and perfectly seriously, and by a lady so elegantly dressed, went beyond any of Julien's expectations: even in the castles in Spain he'd built as a child, he'd never contemplated that any lady of fashion would condescend to speak to him at all, until he was wearing a handsome uniform. For her part, Madame de Rênal was utterly beguiled by his fine complexion, his great black eyes, and his lovely hair, which was