violent things against me,
that had my discretion been no greater than his I must have taken
notice of them. As, however, I had other and more important affairs
upon my hands, and it has never been my practice to humour such
hot-heads by placing myself on a level with them, I was content to
leave his punishment to St. Mesmin; assured that in him M. Saintonge
would find an opponent more courageous and not less stubborn than
himself.

The event bore me out, for within a week M. de St. Mesmin's pretensions
to the hand of Mademoiselle de Saintonge shared with the Biron affair
the attention of all Paris. The young lady, whose reputation and the
care which had been spent on her breeding, no less than her gifts of
person and character, deserved a better fate, attained in a moment a
notoriety far from enviable; rumour's hundred tongues alleging, and
probably with truth--for what father can vie with a gallant in a
maiden's eyes?--that her inclinations were all on the side of the
pretender. At any rate, St. Mesmin had credit for them; there was talk
of stolen meetings and a bribed waiting-woman; and though such tales
were probably as false as those who gave them currency were fair, they
obtained credence with the thoughtless, and being repeated from one to
another, in time reached her father's ears, and contributed with St.
Mesmin's persecution to render him almost beside himself.

Doubtless with a man of less dogged character, or one more amenable to
reason, the Marquis would have known how to deal; but the success which
had hitherto rewarded St. Mesmin's course of action had confirmed the
young man in his belief that everything was to be won by courage; so
that the more the Marquis blustered and threatened the more persistent
the suitor showed himself. Wherever Mademoiselle's presence was to be
expected, St. Mesmin appeared, dressed in the extreme of the fashion
and wearing either a favour made of her colours or a glove which he
asserted that she had given him. Throwing himself in her road on every
occasion, he expressed his passion by the most extravagant looks and
gestures; and protected from the shafts of ridicule alike by his
self-esteem and his prowess, did a hundred things that rendered her
conspicuous and must have covered another than himself with
inextinguishable laughter.

In these circumstances M. de Saintonge began to find that the darts
which glanced off his opponent's armour were making him their butt; and