is her hope; and

"'Ut tu fortunam, sic nos te, Celse, feremus,'

is her motto."

"Madame Laurent!" repeated I, "why, surely that is the name of Mons.
Margot's landlady."

"I hope not," cried Vincent, "for the sake of our dinner; he reflects no
credit on her good cheer--

"'Who eats fat dinners, should himself be fat.'"

"At all events," said I, "we can try the good lady for once. I am very
anxious to see a countrywoman of ours, probably the very one you speak
of, whom Mons. Margot eulogizes in glowing colours, and who has,
moreover, taken a violent fancy for my solemn preceptor. What think you
of that, Vincent?"

"Nothing extraordinary," replied Vincent; "the lady only exclaims with
the moralist--

"'Love, virtue, valour, yea, all human charms,
Are shrunk and centred in that heap of bones.
Oh! there are wondrous beauties in the grave!'"

I made some punning rejoinder, and we sallied out to earn an appetite in
the Tuilleries for Madame Laurent's dinner.