Here Madame de Lucenay, yielding to the whimsicality of her character, could not help laughing most heartily, and saying to the comte:
“It must be owned that our position is at least an odd one, and that it is very funny that it should be I who am sermonising you.”
“Why, it does seem very strange to me, I assure you; but I deserve neither your sermons nor your praises. I have come to my son’s house, but not for my son’s sake. At his age, he has not, or has no longer, any need of my advice.”
“What do you mean?”
“You ought to know the reason for which I hold the world, and Paris, especially, in such horror,” said the comte, with a painful and distressing expression; “and you may therefore believe that nothing but circumstances of the utmost importance could have induced me to leave Anger
