M.Basile was a tall handsome man, of good address: he entered with a consequential look and an air of taking his family unawares, though none but friends were present.

His wife ran to meet him, threw her arms about his neck, and gave him a thousand caresses, which he received with the utmost indifference; and without making any return saluted the company and took his place at table.

They were just beginning to speak of his journey, when casting his eye on the small table he asked in a sharp tone, what lad that was?
Madam Basile answered ingenuously.

He then inquired whether I lodged in the house; and was answered in the negative.

"Why not ?" replied he, rudely, "since he stays here all day, he might as well remain all night too." The monk now interfered, with a serious and true eulogium on Madam Basile: in a few words he made mine also, adding, that so far from blaming, he ought to further the pious charity of his wife, since it was evident she had not passed the bounds of discretion.