ving rejuvenated him, he
endeavored to inspire this seductive young woman with his own good
opinion of himself. The malicious creature practised, in return, every
art of her coquetry upon him, all the more adroitly because it was mere
play to her. Sometimes she let him think he was making rapid progress,
and then, as if surprised at the sentiment she was feeling, she showed a
sudden coolness which charmed him, and served to increase imperceptibly
his impromptu passion. She was like a fisherman who lifts his line
from time to time to see if the fish is biting. The poor count allowed
himself to be deceived by the innocent air with which she accepted two
or three neatly turned compliments. Emigration, Brittany, the Republic,
and the Chouans were far indeed from his thoughts. Hulot sat erect
and silent as the god Thermes. His want of education made him quite
incapable of taking part in a conversation of this kind; he supposed
that the talking pair were very witty, but his efforts at comprehension
were limited to discovering whether they were plotting against the
Republic in covert language.

"Montauran," the count was saying, "has birth and breeding, he is a
charming fellow, but he doesn't understand gallantry. He is too young
to have seen Versailles. His education is deficient. Instead of
diplomatically defaming, he strikes a blow. He may be able to love
violently, but he will never have that fine flower of breeding in his
gallantry which distinguished Lauzun, Adhemar, Coigny, and so many
others! He hasn't the winning art of saying those pretty nothings to
women which, after all, they like better than bursts of passion, which
soon weary them. Yes, though he has undoubtedly had many love-affairs,
he has neither the grace nor the ease that should belong to them."

"I have noticed that myself," said Marie.

"Ah!" thought the count, "there's an inflection in her voice, and a look
in her eye which shows me plainly I shall soon be _on terms_ with her;
and faith! to get her, I'll believe all she wants me to."

He offered her his hand, for dinner was now announced. Mademoiselle de
Verneuil did the honors with a politeness and tact which could only have
been acquired by the life and training of a court.

"Leave us," she whispered to Hulot as they left the table. "You will
only frighten him; whereas, if I am alone with him I shall soon find
out all I want to know; he has reached the point where a man tells me
everything he thin