His deafness seemed admirably suited to Monsieur de Boisguilbault's taciturnity, and perhaps the latter was not sorry to have about him a man whose impaired vision made it impossible for him to read his features: he was rather a machine than a servant; for, being deprived by his infirmities of the power of mental communication with his fellow-men, he no longer had any desire or occasion therefor. One could readily conceive that those two old men were well fitted to live together without a thought of being bored by each other's company, there was so little apparent life in either of them. The dinner was served with due regularity, but not rapidly. They were two hours at table. Emile observed that his host ate almost nothing, and seemed to have no other purpose in eating than to induce him to taste all the dishes, which were appetizing and toothsome. The wines were exquisite, and old Martin poured them from bottles covered with the dust of ages, which he held horizontally, taking care not to jar them in the slightest degree. The marquis barely wet his lips, but motioned to his old servant to fill Emile's glass, who, being habitually very abstemious, kept close watch upon himself, to see that he did not allow his reason to succumb to the repeated experiments with the numerous specimens from that seignorial cellar. "Is this your ordinary fare, monsieur le marquis?" he asked, marvelling that such a sumptuous repast should be provided for two persons. "I--I really don't know," the marquis replied; "I have nothing to do with it. Martin is my housekeeper. I never have any appetite, and I never notice what I eat. Do the things seem good to you?" "Exquisite; and if I had the honor of being admitted to your table often, I should beg Martin to entertain me less splendidly, for I should be afraid of becoming a gourmand." "Why not? it's one variety of enjoyment. Happy are they who have many others!" "But there are those which are more elevating and less expensive," rejoined Emile; "so many people lack the necessaries of life that I should be ashamed to find that the luxuries were necessary to me." "You are right," said Monsieur de Boisguilbault, with his accustomed sigh. "Well, I will tell Martin to serve you a simpler dinner another time. He supposed that at your age you would have a large appetite; but it seems to me that you eat like a man who has finished growing. How old are you?" "Twenty-one." "I should have thought that you were older." "From my face?" "No, from your ideas." "I would like my father to hear your opinion, monsieur le marquis, and to become imbued with it," rejoined Emile with a smile; "for he always treats me like a child." "What sort of a man is your father?" said Monsieur de Boisguilbault, with an ingenuous absent-mindedness which removed the sting from what might have seemed at first blush a most impertinent question.