—yes, if you were to truly love a woman who would have all of your esteem—then you would appear to her worthy."
Madame de Piennes experienced some difficulty in finishing her badly turned sentence, and Max, who regarded her attentively and with extreme curiosity, did not aid her in the least.
"You mean to say," he finally continued, "that if I were really in love, one would love me in return, because then I should be worth the pains?"
"Yes, then you would be worthy to be loved."
"If it were only necessary to love in order to be loved. That is not altogether true what you say, madam—Pshaw! find me a woman brave enough, and I will marry. If she is not too homely, I am not too old to be inflamed still.—You can answer for me for the rest."
"Where do you come from now?" interrupted Madame de Piennes in a serious tone.
Max talked very laconically of his travels, but nevertheless in a way to indicate that he had not done as certain tourists, of whom the Greeks say: "Empty he went away, empty he has returned." His short observations denoted a sound mind, and one which did not form its opinions at second hand, although he was in
