draw tears he must shed them himself."

"I think he is right there; but he should not be so severe with amateurs,
above all with charming actresses like you. Such perfection is only to be
looked for from professionals, but all authors are the same. They never
think that the actor has pronounced the words with the force which the
sense, as they see it, requires."

"I told him, one day, that it was not my fault if his lines had not the
proper force."

"I am sure he laughed."

"Laughed? No, sneered, for he is a rude and impertinent man."

"But I suppose you overlook all these failings?"

"Not at all; we have sent him about his business."

"Sent him about his business?"

"Yes. He left the house he had rented here, at short notice, and retired
to where you will find him now. He never comes to see us now, even if we
ask him."

"Oh, you do ask him, though you sent him about his business?"

"We cannot deprive ourselves of the pleasure of admiring his talents, and
if we have teased him, that was only from revenge, and to teach him
something of the manners of good society."

"You have given a lesson to a great master."

"Yes; but when you see him mention Lausanne, and see what he will say of
us. But he will say it laughingly, that's his way."

During my stay I often saw Lord Rosebury, who had vainly courted my
charming Dubois. I have never known a young man more disposed to silence.
I have been told that he had wit, that he was well educated, and even in
high spirits at times, but he could not get over his shyness, which gave
him an almost indefinable air of stupidity. At balls, assemblies--in
fact, everywhere, his manners consisted of innumerable bows. When one
spoke to him, he replied in good French but with the fewest possible
words, and his shy manner shewed that every question was a trouble to
him. One day when I was dining with him, I asked him some question about
his country, which required five or six small phrases by way of answer.
He gave me an excellent reply, but blushed all the time like a young girl
when she comes out. The celebrated Fox who was then twenty, and was at
the same dinner, succeeded in making him laugh, but it was by saying
something in English, which I did not understand in the least. Eight
months after I saw him again at Turin, he was then amorous of a banker's
wife, who was able to untie his tongue.

At Lausanne I saw a young girl of eleven or twelve by whose beauty I was
exceedingl