to live in France, and you want to be happy, don't listen too hard to that little voice I just spoke of,—the voice that is neither the curé's nor the world's. You 'll fancy it saying things that it won't help your case to hear. They 'll make you sad, and when you're sad you 'll grow plain, and when you're plain you 'll grow bitter, and when you're bitter you 'll be very disagreeable. I was brought up to think that a woman's first duty was to please, and the happiest women I've known have been the ones who performed this duty faithfully. As you're not a Catholic, I suppose you can't be a dévote; and if you don't take life as a fifty years mass, the only way to take it is as a game of skill. Listen: not to lose, you must,—I don't say cheat; but don't be too sure your neighbor won't, and don't be shocked out of your self-possession if he does. Don't lose, my dear; I beseech you, don't lose. Be neither suspicious nor credulous; but if you find your neighbor peeping, don't cry out, but very politely wait your own chance. I've had my revanche more than once in my day, but I'm not sure that the sweetest I could take against life as a whole would be to have your blessed innocence profit by my experience."
This was rather awful advice, but Euphemia understood it too little to be either edified or frightened. She sat listening to it very much as she would have
