She then left me, and I could not help thinking her a very interesting woman, as her speech was as dignified as her appearance.
I went down to the kitchen and found the cook, an honest-looking fellow, who told me his name was Rosier. I had known his brother in the service of the French ambassador at Venice. He told me that supper would be ready at nine o'clock.
"I never eat by myself," said I.
"So I hear, sir; and I will serve supper accordingly."
"What are your wages?"
"Four louis a month."
I then went to see the rest of my people. I found two sharp-looking footmen, and the first of them told me he would see I had what wine I
wanted. Then I inspected my bath, which seemed convenient. An apothecary was preparing certain matters for my imaginary cure.
Finally, I took a walk round my garden, and before going in I went into the gate-keeper's, where I found a numerous family, and some girls who were not to be despised. I was delighted to hear everybody speak French, and I talked with them some time.
When I got back to my room, I found Le Duc occupied in unpacking my mails; and telling him to give my linen to Madame Dubois, I went into a pretty cabinet adjoining, where there was a desk and all materials necessary for writing. This closet had only one window facing north, but it commanded a view capable of inspiring the finest thoughts. I
was amusing myself with the contemplation of this sublime prospect, when I heard a knock at my door. It was my pretty housekeeper, who wore a modest and pleasant expression, and did not in the least resemble a person who bears a complaint.
"What can I do for you, madam?"
"I hope you will be good enough to order your man to be polite to me?"
"Certainly; how has he failed in politeness?"
"He might possibly tell you in no respect. He wanted to kiss me, and as I refused he thought himself justified in being rather insolent."
"How?"
"By laughing at me. You will pardon me, sir, but I do not like people who make game."
"You are right; they are sure to be either silly or malicious. Make yourself easy; Le Duc shall understand that you are to be treated with respect. You will please sup with me."
Le Duc came in soon after, and I told him to behave respectfully towards Madame Dubois.
"She's a sly cat," said the rascal; "she wouldn't let me kiss her."
"I am afraid you are a bad fellow."
"Is she your servant or your mistress?"
"She might be my wife."
"Oh! well, that's different. That will do; Madame Dubois shall have all respect, and I will try my luck somewhere else."
I had a delicious supper. I was contented with my cook, my butler, my housekeeper, and even with my Spaniard, who waited capitally at table.
After supper I sent out Le Duc and the other servant, and as soon as I was alone with my too lovely housekeeper, who had behaved at table like a woman of the world, I begged her to tell me her history.
"My history, sir, is short enough, and not very interesting. I was--
born at Lyons, and my relations took me to Lausanne, as I have been told, for I was too young at the time to remember anything about it.
My father, who was in the service of Madame d'Ermance, left me an orphan when I was fourteen. Madame d'Ermance was fond of me, and knowing that my mother's means were small she took me to live with her. I had attained my seventeenth year when I entered the service of Lady Montagu as lady's maid, and some time after I was married to Dubois, an old servant of the house. We went to England, and three years after my marriage I lost my husband. The climate of England affected my lungs, and I was obliged to beg my lady to allow me to leave her service. The worthy lady saw how weak I was, and paid the expenses of my journey and loaded me with rich presents. I returned to my mother at Lausanne, where my health soon returned, and I went into the service of an English lady who was very fond of me, and would have taken me with her to Italy if she had not conceived some suspicions about the young Duke of Rosebury, with whom she was in love, and whom she thought in love with me. She suspected me, but wrongfully, of being her rival in secret. She sent me away, after giving me rich presents, and saying how sorry she was she could not keep me. I went back to my mother, and for two years I have lived with the toil of my hands. Four days ago M. Lebel, the ambassador's steward, asked me if I would enter the service of an Italian gentleman as housekeeper. I agreed, in the hope of seeing Italy, and this hope is the cause of my stupidity. In short: here I am."
"What stupidity are you referring to?"
"The stupidity of having entered your service before I knew you."
"I like your freedom. You would not have come, then, if you had not known me?"
"Certainly not, for no lady will ever take me after having been with you."
"Why not? may I ask."
"Well, sir; do you think you are the kind of man to have a house-
keeper like myself without the public believing my situation to be of quite a different nature?"
"No, you are too pretty, and I don't look like a fossil, certainly;
but after all, what matter does it make?"
"It is all very well for you to make light of it, and if I were in your place I would do the same; but how am I, who am a woman and not in an independent position, to set myself above the rules and regulations of society?"
"You mean, Madame Dubois, that you would very much like to go back to Lausanne?"
"Not exactly, as that would not be just to you."
"How so?"
"People would be sure to say that either your words or your deeds were too free, and you might possibly pass a rather uncharitable judgment on me."
"What judgment could I pass on you?"
"You might think I wanted to impose on you."
"That might be, as I should be very much hurt by so sudden and uncalled-for a departure. All the same I am sorry for you, as with your ideas you can neither go nor stay with any satisfaction.
Nevertheless, you must do one or the other."
"I have made up my mind. I shall stay, and I am almost certain I
shall not regret it."
"I am glad to hear that, but there is one point to which I wish to call your attention."
"What is that?"
"I will tell you. Let us have no melancholy and no scruples."
