"My dear Céleste, you look lovely, I assure you. You always seem to me to be trying to attempt the impossible. A woman who cannot make herself charming loses half the battle in the beauty competition. It is far better to appreciate the dresses you cannot have than to have the dresses you cannot appreciate. Don't forget that a woman who makes herself charming by her manner can afford to wear anything she pleases without offending the company." "Yes, I know you are right, papa, although if you were to ask me I could not tell you why." "I am afraid my daughter imagines that she is out of harmony with everyone in the room." "Not in the least, papa, but you know the greatest pleasure I can have is to please our guests, and how can I do that better than by having nothing on that can offend the eye." "Yes," replied the doctor smiling, "half her punishment was already removed when Eve was permitted to decorate herself with fig-leaves." "Oh, papa! How can you say such dreadful things? But I think I understand what you meant when you spoke to me about being charming as well. You meant that a cheerful, bright, smiling face and nice courteous manners count more than a pretty frock." "Quite right, my little rosebud," said Villebois, tenderly kissing her on the forehead, "live up to those ideas, and you will never go far wrong. The world, they say, is ever growing old, but youth asserts itself on every side, and gives the world the lie. Happy, joyous youth," he added with a sigh, "what would we give to feel once more the young blood coursing through our veins. Make the most of it, Céleste dear, while you possess it. Youth, hope and love are the only things that count. We old folks can only enjoy the memory of those sweet days. When you know English better I must lend you my volume of Coleridge's poems, which I know you will like. If I remember rightly there is a charming poem about youth which begins:-- Verse, a breeze mid blossoms straying, Where Hope clung feeding like a bee, Both were mine, Life went a-maying, With Nature, Hope and Poesy, When I was young. Flowers are lovely; Love is flower-like, Friendship is a sheltering tree; O! the joys that came down shower-like Of Friendship, Love and Liberty, When I was young." "How very pretty," said Céleste. "I must hurry on with my English, as I should dearly love to read beautiful poetry like that." "Yes," said Villebois with a little sigh, "youth is life, but youth without faith and hope is worse than death. To grow old and never know it, or to have your friends suspect it, that is happiness indeed." "What are you two people talking about?" said Riche joining them. "Father is giving me a sermon on youth and happiness," said Céleste, smiling. "What is your recipe for happiness, doctor?" she added enquiringly after a pause.