"No, there are two of your countrymen whom you invited yesterday."

"I will write and put them off. Morand alone must dine with
Lebel; he ought to have a place at the feast which he furnishes
with such good music. Come, my dear girl, we touch the moment
of importance, it is in your beauty and power of pleasing that I
place all my hopes. I think I may rely on you; but, above all, do
not forget that you are my sister-in-law."

"Brother-in-law," said I, laughing, "it is not unnecessary that
I should know decidedly to which of family I am married? The
custom in France is not that a woman be the undivided property
of three brothers."

"That only happens in Venice," replied the comte; "my brother
Elie is too young, you must be the wife of Guillaume, my second
brother."

"Very well; I am the comtesse Guillaume du Barry; that does
famously well; we like to know whom we are married to."

After this conversation, comte Jean insisted on presiding at my
toilette. He acquitted himself of the task, with a most laughable
attention. During two good hours, at least, he tormented first
Henriette, and then the female hairdresser, for I had not yet
followed the mode, which began to be very general, of having
my hair dressed by a man. Comte Jean passed alternately from
my dressing-room to the kitchen. He knew Lebel was a gallant
and a gourmand*, and he was anxious to please him in all senses
at once.