you to have my arms?'

"Your arms!" I answered. "I got this seal from the Comte d'Aranda; how
can you prove that you are a scion of that race?"

"'Do not ask me, madam; my birth is a secret I can reveal to no one.'"

The imposition and above all the impudence of the young knave astounded
me. I should not have thought him capable of it, and a week after I went
to see him by myself to get at the bottom of all this mystery.

I found my young count with Viar, who, judging by the awe the child
shewed of me, must have thought he belonged to me. He was unsparing in
his praises of his pupil, saying that he played the flute capitally,
danced and fenced admirably, rode well, and wrote a good hand. He shewed
me the pens he had cut himself with three, five, and even nine points,
and begged to be examined on heraldry, which, as the master observed, was
so necessary a science for a young nobleman.

The young gentleman then commenced in the jargon of heraldry to blazon
his own pretended arms, and I felt much inclined to burst into laughter,
partly because I did not understand a word he said, and partly because he
seemed to think the matter as important as would a country squire with
his thirty-two quarters. However, I was delighted to see his dexterity in
penmanship, which was undoubtedly very great, and I expressed my
satisfaction to Viar, who soon left us to ourselves. We proceeded into
the garden.

"Will you kindly inform me," I said, "how you can be so foolish as to
call yourself the Comte d'Aranda?"

He replied, with the utmost calmness, "I know it is foolish, but leave me
my title; it is of service to me here and gains me respect."

"It is an imposition I cannot wink at, as it may be fraught with serious
results, and may do harm to both of us. I should not have thought that at
your age you would be capable of such a knavish trick. I know you did it
out of stupidity, but after a certain limit stupidity becomes criminal;
and I cannot see how I am to remedy your fault without disgracing you in
the eyes of Madame d'Urfe."

I kept on scolding him till he burst into tears, saying,

"I had rather the shame of being sent back to my mother than the shame of
confessing to Madame d'Urfe that I had imposed on her; and I could not
bear to stay here if I had to give up my name."

Seeing that I could do nothing with him, unless, indeed, I sent him to
some place far removed from Paris under his proper name, I told him to
take comfo