Chérubin, who was dressed in the latest style, still retained a trace of the awkwardness characteristic of village youths; but as he was well-built and had a most attractive face, the awkwardness of his carriage sometimes resembled the innocent coquetry of a schoolboy. They entered the carriage, and Monfréville said: “I am taking you into fashionable society, but, in order to dispel any feeling of shyness, that may injure your prospects, say to yourself first of all that you are of as good family as any of the people you will see there; say to yourself in the second place, that, thanks to your fortune and your rank, you need no support. When a person can say that to himself, my dear Chérubin, he should be perfectly self-possessed in society; indeed, some people are too much so. In default of the advantages which you have, and which everybody cannot have, a philosopher would say: ‘Why should I allow myself to be awed by this man’s title, or by that man’s fortune? Are they not men like myself, after all? Imagine all these vain, proud people in the costume of our first parents in the Garden of Eden; strip them of these decorations, these jewels, these costly clothes, in which their whole merit often consists,--will they be so imposing to me then? No, indeed; it is probable that they will make me laugh, and that is all.’--My dear fellow, a few such reflections are enough to put one entirely at his ease in the most exalted company.” “You encourage me,” said Chérubin; “I shall talk Latin with the men, and with the ladies I shall talk about Venus, Diana and Phœbe. Monsieur Gérondif advised that.” “If you want to make people laugh at you, that would be the best of all ways. I suspected that your tutor was a fool, now I am sure of it.” “Mon Dieu! what shall I say then, if anyone speaks to me?” “Reply to what they say.” “But suppose I don’t know what to reply--suppose I can’t think of anything to say?” “Keep silent then. A person is never stupid in society when he knows how to keep silent; indeed there are people who owe their reputation for wit to their silence.” “But suppose I see any lovely women, who take my fancy?” “Tell them so with your eyes; they will understand you perfectly.” “But if I want to make their acquaintance, to pay court to them?” “Say whatever comes into your head; but above all things don’t try to be bright, for you would make yourself a terrible bore.” “But suppose nothing comes into my head?” “You still have the resource of silence and eloquent glances; there are many people who stop there.” “But this lady to whose house you are taking me?”