My Lord Pembroke, seeing me at my window, came in, and after examining my
house, including the kitchen, where the cook was at work, told me that
there was not a nobleman in town who had such a well-furnished and
comfortable house. He made a calculation, and told me that if I wanted to
entertain my friends I should require three hundred pounds a month. "You
can't live here," said he, "without a pretty girl, and those who know
that you keep bachelor's hall are of opinion that you are very wise, and
will save a great deal of useless expense."

"Do you keep a girl, my lord?"

"No, for I am unfortunate enough to be disgusted with a woman after I
have had her for a day."

"Then you require a fresh one every day?"

"Yes, and without being as comfortable as you I spend four times as much.
You must know that I live in London like a stranger. I never dine at my
own house. I wonder at your dining alone."

"I can't speak English. I like soup and good wine, and that is enough to
keep me from your taverns."

"I expect so, with your French tastes."

"You will confess that they are not bad tastes."

"You are right, for, good Englishman as I am, I get on very well in
Paris."