“But it would be impossible,” said Camille, looking at Calyste.

“They are very well matched,” remarked Vignon.  “She is ten years older than he; and it is he who appears to be the girl—­”

“A girl, monsieur,” said Calyste, waking from his reverie, “who has been twice under fire in La Vendee!  If the Cause had had twenty thousand more such girls—­”

“I was giving you some well-deserved praise, and that is easier than to give you a beard,” remarked Vignon.

“I have a sword for those who wear their beards too long,” cried Calyste.

“And I am very good at an epigram,” said the other, smiling.  “We are Frenchmen; the affair can easily be arranged.”

Mademoiselle des Touches cast a supplicating look on Calyste, which calmed him instantly.

“Why,” said Felicite, as if to break up the discussion, “do young men like my Calyste, begin by loving women of a certain age?”

“I don’t know any sentiment more artless or more generous,” replied Vignon.  “It is the natural consequence of the adorable qualities of youth.  Besides, how would old women end if it were not for such love?  You are young and beautiful, and will be for twenty years to come, so I can speak of this matter before you,” he added, with a keen look at Mademoiselle des Touches.  “In the first place the semi-dowagers, to whom young men pay their first court, know much better how to make love than younger women.  An adolescent youth is too like a young woman himself for a young woman to please him.  Such a passion trenches on the fable of Narcissus.  Besides that feeling of repugnance, there is, as I think, a mutual sense of inexperience which separates them.  The reason why the hearts of young women are only understood by mature men, who conceal their cleverness under a passion real or feigned, is precisely the same (allowing for the difference of minds) as that which renders a woman of a certain age more adroit in attracting youth.  A young man feels that he is sure to succeed with her, and the vanities of the woman are flattered by his suit.  Besides, isn’t it natural for youth to fling itself on fruits?  The autumn of a woman’s life offers many that are very toothsome,—­those looks, for instance, bold, and yet reserved, bathed with the last rays of love, so warm, so sweet; that all-wise elegance of speech, those magnificent shoulders, so nobly developed, the full and undulating outline, the dimpled hands, the hair so well arranged, so cared for, that charming nape of the neck, where all the resources of art are displayed to exhibit the contrast between the hair and the flesh-tones, and to set in full relief the exuberance of life and love.  Brunettes themselves are fair at such times, with the amber colors of maturity.  Besides, such women reveal in their smiles and display in their words a knowledge of the world; they know how to converse; they can call up the whole of social life to make a lover laugh; their dignity and their pride are stupendous;