"And that is exactly the reason why La belle Meronville loves me so: nothing is so sweet to one person as bitterness upon another; it is human nature and French nature (which is a very different thing) into the bargain." "Bah! my Lord Duke, you judge of others by yourself." "To be sure I do," cried the duke; "and that is the best way of forming a right judgment. Ah! what a foot, that little figurante has; you don't admire her, Linden?" "No, Duke; my admiration is like the bird in the cage,--chained here, and cannot fly away!" answered Clarence, with a smile at the frippery of his compliment. "Ah, Monsieur," cried the pretty Frenchwoman, leaning back, "you have been at Paris, I see: one does not learn those graces of language in England. I have been five months in your country; brought over the prettiest dresses imaginable, and have only received three compliments, and (pity me!) two out of the three were upon my pronunciation of 'How do you do?'" "Well," said Clarence, "I should have imagined that in England, above all other countries, your vanity would have been gratified, for you know we pique ourselves on our sincerity, and say all we think." "Yes? then you always think very unpleasantly. What an alternative! which is the best, to speak ill or to think ill of one?" "Pour l'amour de Dieu," cried the duke, "don't ask such puzzling questions; "you are always getting into those moral subtleties, which I suppose you learn from Borodaile. He is a wonderful metaphysician, I hear; I can answer for his chemical powers: the moment he enters a room the very walls grow damp; as for me, I dissolve; I should flow into a fountain, like Arethusa, if happily his lordship did not freeze one again into substance as fast as he dampens one into thaw." "Fi donc!" cried La Meronville. "I should be very angry had you not taught me to be very indifferent-" "To him!" said the duke, dryly. "I'm glad to hear it. He is not worth une grande passion, believe me; but tell me, ma belle, who else sups with you?" "D'abord, Monsieur Linden, I trust," answered La Meronville, with a look of invitation, to which Clarence bowed and smiled his assent, "Milord D----, and Monsieur Trevanion, Mademoiselle Caumartin, and Le Prince Pietro del Ordino." "Nothing can be better arranged," said the duke. "But see, they are just going to drop the curtain. Let me call your carriage." "You are too good, milord," replied La Meronville, with a bow which said, "of course;" and the duke, who would not have stirred three paces for the first princess of the blood, hurried out of the box (despite of Clarence's offer to undertake the commission) to inquire after the carriage of the most notorious adventuress of the day.