curl, and
ignorant of the fact that anything is charming in youth. And, in any
case, such women as Mme. de Beauseant are only attracted by the charms
of wit or character of an unusual order. Greatness of character flatters
their vanity, promises a great passion, seems to imply a comprehension
of the requirements of their hearts. Wit amuses them, responds to the
subtlety of their natures, and they think that they are understood. And
what do all women wish but to be amused, understood, or adored? It is
only after much reflection on the things of life that we understand
the consummate coquetry of neglect of dress and reserve at a first
interview; and by the time we have gained sufficient astuteness for
successful strategy, we are too old to profit by our experience.

While Gaston's lack of confidence in his mental equipment drove him
to borrow charms from his clothes, Madame de Beauseant herself was
instinctively giving more attention to her toilette.

"I would rather not frighten people, at all events," she said to herself
as she arranged her hair.

In M. de Nueil's character, person, and manner there was that touch of
unconscious originality which gives a kind of flavor to things that any
one might say or do, and absolves everything that they may choose to
do or say. He was highly cultivated, he had a keen brain, and a face,
mobile as his own nature, which won the goodwill of others. The promise
of passion and tenderness in the bright eyes was fulfilled by an
essentially kindly heart. The resolution which he made as he entered
the house at Courcelles was in keeping with his frank nature and ardent
imagination. But, bold has he was with love, his heart beat violently
when he had crossed the great court, laid out like an English garden,
and the man-servant, who had taken his name to the Vicomtesse, returned
to say that she would receive him.

"M. le Baron de Nueil."

Gaston came in slowly, but with sufficient ease of manner; and it is a
more difficult thing, be it said, to enter a room where there is but one
woman, than a room that holds a score.

A great fire was burning on the hearth in spite of the mild weather,
and by the soft light of the candles in the sconces he saw a young woman
sitting on a high-backed _bergere_ in the angle by the hearth. The seat
was so low that she could move her head freely; every turn of it was
full of grace and delicate charm, whether she bent, leaning forward,
or raised and held it e