ade her hot. I told my man to go and fetch some coffee, and as soon as
he was gone she went down on her knees and would have wiped my feet.

"I cannot allow that, my dear young lady."

"Why not? it is a mark of friendship."

"That may be, but such marks cannot be given to anyone but your lover
without your degrading yourself."

She got up and sat down on a chair quietly, but saying nothing.

Clairmont came back again, and I proceeded with my toilette.

The landlady came in with our breakfast, and asked my niece if she would
like to buy a fine silk shawl made in the Genoese fashion. I did not let
her be confused by having to answer, but told the landlady to let us see
it. Soon after the milliner came in, but by that time I had given my
young friend twenty Genoese sequins, telling her that she might use them
for her private wants. She took the money, thanking me with much grace,
and letting me imprint a delicious kiss on her lovely lips.

I had sent away the milliner after having bought the shawl, when Possano
took it upon himself to remonstrate with me in the matter of the cook.

"I engaged the man by your orders," said he, "for the whole time you
stayed at Genoa, at four francs a day, with board and lodging."

"Where is my letter?"

"Here it is: 'Get me a good cook; I will keep him while I stay in
Genoa.'"

"Perhaps you did not remark the expression, a good cook? Well, this
fellow is a very bad cook; and, at all events, I am the best judge
whether he is good or bad."

"You are wrong, for the man will prove his skill. He will cite you in the
law courts, and win his case."

"Then you have made a formal agreement with him?"

"Certainly; and your letter authorized me to do so."

"Tell him to come up; I want to speak to him."

While Possano was downstairs I told Clairmont to go and fetch me an
advocate. The cook came upstairs, I read the agreement, and I saw that it
was worded in such a manner that I should be in the wrong legally; but I
did not change my mind for all that.

"Sir," said the cook, "I am skilled in my business, and I can get four
thousand Genoese to swear as much."

"That doesn't say much for their good taste; but whatever they may-say,
the execrable supper you gave me last night proves that you are only fit
to keep a low eating-house."

As there is nothing more irritable than the feelings of a culinary
artist, I was expecting a sharp answer; but just then the advocate came
in. He had he