I Fall in Love With Veronique--Her Sister--Plot Against Plot--My
Victory--Mutual Disappointment

I have never liked eating by myself, and thus I have never turned hermit,
though I once thought of turning monk; but a monk without renouncing all
the pleasures of life lives well in a kind of holy idleness. This dislike
to loneliness made me give orders that the table should be laid for two,
and indeed, after supping with the marquis and myself, Veronique had some
right to expect as much, to say nothing of those rights which her wit and
beauty gave her.

I only saw Costa, and asked him what had become of Le Duc. He said he was
ill. "Then go behind the lady's chair," said I. He obeyed, but smiled as
he did so. Pride is a universal failing, and though a servant's pride is
the silliest of all it is often pushed to the greatest extremes.

I thought Veronique prettier than before. Her behaviour, now free and now
reserved, as the occasion demanded, shewed me that she was no new hand,
and that she could have played the part of a princess in the best
society. Nevertheless (so strange a thing is the heart of man), I was
sorry to find I liked her, and my only consolation was that her mother
would come and take her away before the day was over. I had adored
Rosalie, and my heart still bled at the thought of our parting.

The girl's mother came while we were still at table. She was astounded at
the honour I shewed her daughter, and she overwhelmed me with thanks.

"You owe me no gratitude," said I to her; "your daughter is clever, good,
and beautiful."