I took a suite of three rooms and ordered supper for two, warning the man that I was dainty, liked good things, and did not care for the cost.  I also begged M. de Valenglard to sup with me.  The doorkeeper said that if I was not pleased with his cooking I had only to say so, and in that case I should have nothing to pay.  I sent for my carriage, and felt that I had established myself in my new abode.  On the ground floor I saw three charming girls and the door-keeper’s wife, who all bowed profoundly.  M. de Valenglard took me to a concert with the idea of introducing me to everybody, but I begged him not to do so, as I wished to see the ladies before deciding which of them I should like to know.

The company was a numerous one, especially where women were concerned, but the only one to attract my attention was a pretty and modest-looking brunette, whose fine figure was dressed with great simplicity.  Her charming eyes, after having thrown one glance in my direction, obstinately refused to look at me again.  My vanity made me conclude at once that she behaved thus only to increase my desire of knowing her, and to give me plenty of time to examine her side-face and her figure, the proportions of which were not concealed by her simple attire.  Success begets assurance, and the wish is father to the thought.  I cast a hungry gaze on this young lady without more ado, just as if all the women in Europe were only a seraglio kept for my pleasures.  I told the baron I should like to know her.

“She is a good girl,” said he, “who sees no company, and is quite poor.”

“Those are three reasons which make me the more anxious to know her.”

“You will really find nothing to do in that quarter.”

“Very good.”

“There is her aunt, I will introduce you to her as we leave the concert-room.”

After doing me this service, he came to sup with me.  The door-keeper and cook struck me as being very like Lebel.  He made his two pretty daughters wait on me, and I saw that Valenglard was delighted at having lodged me to my satisfaction, but he grumbled when he saw fifteen dishes.

“He is making a fool of you and me,” he said.

“On the contrary, he has guessed my tastes.  Don’t you think everything was very good?”

“I don’t deny it, but . . . . "

“Don’t be afraid; I love spending my money.”

“I beg your pardon, I only want you to be pleased.”

We had exquisite wines, and at dessert some ratafia superior to the Turkish ‘visnat’ I had tasted seventeen years before at Yussuf Ali’s.  When my landlord came up at the end of supper, I told him that he ought to be Louis XV.’s head cook.

“Go on as you have begun, and do better if you can; but let me have your bill every morning.”

“You are quite right; with such an arrangement one can tell how one is getting on.”

“I should like you always to give me ices, and you must let me have two more lights.  But, unless I am mistaken, those are candles that I see.  I am a Venetian, and accustomed to wax lights.”