pression. Satisfied, he smiled;
dissatisfied, he smiled again. He smiled at good news and evil tidings;
with slight modifications the smile did duty on all occasions. If he was
positively obliged to express his personal approval, a complacent laugh
reinforced the smile; but he never vouchsafed a word until driven to the
last extremity. A _tete-a-tete_ put him in the one embarrassment of his
vegetative existence, for then he was obliged to look for something to
say in the vast blank of his vacant interior. He usually got out of
the difficulty by a return to the artless ways of childhood; he thought
aloud, took you into his confidence concerning the smallest details of
his existence, his physical wants, the small sensations which did
duty for ideas with him. He never talked about the weather, nor did he
indulge in the ordinary commonplaces of conversation--the way of escape
provided for weak intellects; he plunged you into the most intimate and
personal topics.

"I took veal this morning to please Mme. de Bargeton, who is very fond
of veal, and my stomach has been very uneasy since," he would tell you.
"I knew how it would be; it never suits me. How do you explain it?" Or,
very likely--

"I am just about to ring for a glass of _eau sucree_; will you have some
at the same time?"

Or, "I am going to take a ride to-morrow; I am going over to see my
father-in-law."

These short observations did not permit of discussion; a "Yes" or "No,"
extracted from his interlocutor, the conversation dropped dead. Then
M. de Bargeton mutely implored his visitor to come to his assistance.
Turning westward his old asthmatic pug-dog countenance, he gazed at you
with big, lustreless eyes, in a way that said, "You were saying?"

The people whom he loved best were bores anxious to talk about
themselves; he listened to them with an unfeigned and delicate interest
which so endeared him to the species that all the twaddlers of Angouleme
credited M. de Bargeton with more understanding than he chose to show,
and were of the opinion that he was underrated. So it happened that when
these persons could find nobody else to listen to them, they went off to
give M. de Bargeton the benefit of the rest of the story, argument, or
what not, sure beforehand of his eulogistic smile. Madame de Bargeton's
rooms were always crowded, and generally her husband felt quite at ease.
He interested himself in the smallest details; he watched those who came
in and bow