Queen is already a nonentity—and Louis knows that my house is the most agreeable in Paris."
"No one," said Francesca—for good wishes are as useful as any other form of speech when you do not know very well what to say, and her's at least had the merit of being sincere,—"can wish you more success, or more happiness in your success, than I do."
"I believe you," returned the Comtesse, "which is what I would say to few. But really, dear Francesca, I must protest against your extreme sincerity."
"It is my nature," answered the other, with a smile.
"And pray, for what was our nature given us but to change and to control it? I pay truth a much nigher compliment than you do—I hold it too precious to be pressed into the service of every common occasion."
"But I have not your talents," replied Francesca, well aware that argument, when only to be met by ridicule, is fruitless.
"I admire your modesty; but this quality, like the one we were just speaking of, is only useful to ornament our discourse. It is perfectly judicious to profess both. Let us say how modest and how candid we are—let us even lament over
