‘But I shall not come this way again, monsieur, when I am by myself. And I could not think of putting you to all the trouble you propose. I am not used to be attended on, nor to have a _preux-chevalier_ at my heels, thank you all the same for thinking of it!’ We were walking back to St. Pucelle together now, through the field-path that I have mentioned. It was a very narrow way; there was scarcely room sometimes for us to walk abreast, and our conversation was necessarily impeded. ‘I have not touched a card since the evening that we spoke of it together,’ said the Baron presently. ‘I thought so, monsieur, and I am so glad to hear it. I am sure you will never regret your determination. How do you employ your evenings now?’ ‘I read and write and smoke; but I am very lonely. Sometimes I almost think that I shall cut my throat.’ ‘Hush! don’t say that! You hurt me.’ ‘At first I considered the possibility of turning my talents, such as they are, to account, in any post of responsibility that a gentleman might accept. But whilst I remain under the black cloud of debt, there is no chance of my procuring a Court appointment such as my father held; and the De Nesselrodes have never stooped to anything lower.’ ‘There is no “stooping” in honest labour, monsieur.’ ‘I believe you; but caste has its prejudices. No member of my family has ever been a tutor or a secretary; and if I became so, I should cut off all hope of reconciliation with my relations when my term of penal servitude is ended.’ ‘Cannot you write and employ your time in instructing or amusing others? You can see no degradation in that! Men of the noblest blood have been authors before now.’ ‘Oh yes! and raised themselves by the distinction. But one must have talents to shine before the world, and I am not clever.’ ‘Are you not? Mr. Lovett considers you have a mind of a very high order, and having been intimately associated with some of the first in Europe, he ought to be a good judge.’ ‘He flatters me. But if I have a mind, or any gift for teaching others, I know how I should like to employ it.’ ‘In what way?’ ‘You will not be offended, nor say I am very presumptuous?’ ‘I think not.’ ‘Then I should like to teach you how to speak French.’ If the evening shadows had not fallen by this time, the Baron would have seen that his remark made me redden. I knew I spoke his language with a horribly Anglicised accent, but I was ashamed to be told so. ‘I am quite aware I pronounce it like a barbarian,’ I said bluntly.