laced the chairs round the table and glanced at my fair one, who
looked petrified. The waiter came in, and I helped him to put the dishes
on the table, and he then said to me, "Do you stay here, as I have to go
downstairs."

I took a plate and stood behind a chair facing the lady, and without
appearing to look at her I saw her perfectly, or rather I saw nothing
else. She was astonished the others did not give me a glance, and they
could not have pleased me better. After the soup I hurried to change her
plate, and then did the same office for the rest: they helped themselves
to the boiled beef.

While they were eating, I took a boiled capon and cut it up in a masterly
manner.

"We have a waiter who knows his work," said the lady of my thoughts.

"Have you been long at this inn?"

"Only a few weeks, madam."

"You wait very well."

"Madam is very good."

I had tucked in my superb ruffles of English point lace, but my frilled
shirt front of the same material protruded slightly through my vest,
which I had not buttoned carefully. She saw it, and said, "Come here a
moment."

"What does madam require?"

"Let me see it. What beautiful lace!"

"So I have been told, madam, but it is very old. An Italian gentleman who
was staying here made me a present of it."

"You have ruffles of the same kind, I suppose?"

"Yes, madam;" and so saying I stretched out my hand, unbuttoning my
waistcoat. She gently drew out the ruffle, and seemed to place herself in
a position to intoxicate me with the sight of her charms, although she
was tightly laced. What an ecstatic moment! I knew she had recognized me,
and the thought that I could not carry the masquerade beyond a certain
point was a veritable torment to me.

When she had looked a long time, one of the others said,

"You are certainly very curious, my dear, one would think you had never
seen lace before."

At this she blushed.

When the supper was done, the three ugly ladies each went apart to
undress, while I took away the dishes, and my heroine began to write. I
confess that I was almost infatuated enough to think that she was writing
to me; however, I had too high an opinion of her to entertain the idea.

As soon as I had taken away the dishes, I stood by the door in the
respectful manner becoming the occasion.

"What are you waiting for?" she said.

"For your orders, madam."

"Thank you, I don't want anything."

"Your boots, madam, you will like them removed