m until dinner-time, under the
pretext of looking for some medals, of which he had spoken during our
return home. The dinner was dull. The countess treated her nephew with
stiff and cold politeness. When we entered the drawing-room the count
said to his wife:

"Are you going to play backgammon?--We will leave you."

The young countess made no reply. She gazed at the fire, as if she had
not heard. Her husband took some steps towards the door, inviting me
by the wave of his hand to follow him. At the sound of his footsteps,
his wife quickly turned her head.

"Why do you leave us?" said she, "you will have all tomorrow to show
your friend the reverse of the medals."

The count remained. Without paying any attention to the awkwardness
which had succeeded the former military aplomb of his nephew, the
count exercised during the whole evening his full powers as a charming
conversationalist. I had never before seen him so brilliant or so
gracious. We spoke a great deal about women. The witticisms of our
host were marked by the most exquisite refinement. He made me forget
that his hair was white, for he showed the brilliancy which belonged
to a youthful heart, a gaiety which effaces the wrinkles from the
cheek and melts the snow of wintry age.

The next day the nephew went away. Even after the death of M. de Noce,
I tried to profit by the intimacy of those familiar conversations in
which women are sometimes caught off their guard to sound her, but I
could never learn what impertinence the viscount had exhibited towards
his aunt. His insolence must have been excessive, for since that time
Madame de Noce has refused to see her nephew, and up to the present
moment never hears him named without a slight movement of her
eyebrows. I did not at once guess the end at which the Comte de Noce
aimed, in inviting us to go shooting; but I discovered later that he
had played a pretty bold game.

Nevertheless, if you happen at last, like M. de Noce, to carry off a
decisive victory, do not forget to put into practice at once the
system of blisters; and do not for a moment imagine that such _tours
de force_ are to be repeated with safety. If that is the way you use
your talents, you will end by losing caste in your wife's estimation;
for she will demand of you, reasonably enough, double what you would
give her, and the time will come when you declare bankruptcy. The
human soul in its desires follows a sort of arithmetical progression,
th