I went to drive with Monsieur Roquencourt and his niece. A pretty calèche was awaiting them at the door. I noticed that the male visitors, as they bowed to Caroline, gazed at me with an envious eye as I took my seat opposite her in the carriage. I could understand that a charming woman of twenty-five, who had her own carriage, was likely to make numerous conquests everywhere. Some were in love with the woman, and others with the carriage. But I, who coveted neither, took my seat with the utmost tranquillity opposite Mademoiselle Derbin, and enjoyed the drive at leisure, because I was not occupied in making eyes at my vis-à-vis. At times, Mademoiselle Derbin raved over the landscape; then, all of a sudden, she would begin to laugh at the costume of a water-drinker who passed us. While laughing at her remarks, I pretended to be listening attentively to her uncle, who described the effect he had produced playing Mascarille before Molé. The drive seemed short to me. We returned to the hotel, and in the evening we met again in the salon. I amused myself watching Mademoiselle Derbin. In company she was more coquettish and therefore less agreeable than in private. As I was not paying court to her, I discreetly walked away when I saw a number of adorers coming her way. So that, as a result of that eccentricity which is not uncommon in women, Mademoiselle Derbin seemed to seek my company, and often came to my side. “You do not dance?” she asked me toward the end of the evening. “No, I no longer care for dancing.” “And you do not play cards?” “They play for very high stakes here. I have an income which is sufficient for my needs; I do not care to endanger it with men who would consider it the most natural thing in the world to rob me of it.” “You are a wise man!” “Oh, no!” “And you have no love-affairs here?” “Do you think then that one must absolutely have love-affairs when one goes to a watering-place?” “I don’t say that, but I think you are a most original person.” “Original? no, I assure you that there are many men like me.” She left me, after glancing at me with a singular expression. Did she desire to number me among her numerous conquests? It was possible; what she had just said to me might give me a poor idea of her virtue. An unmarried woman who considers it strange that a man has no love-affairs! And yet, I preferred to think that that was simply due to her original character.