He offered the cup and trencher to Maitre Pierre with a blush in his cheek, and a humiliation of countenance which endeavoured to disguise itself under an embarrassed smile.
"You are a foolish young man," said Maitre Pierre, "and know as little of women as of princes,--whose hearts," he said, crossing himself devoutly, "God keeps in his right hand." "And who keeps those of the women, then ?" said Quentin, resolved, if he could help it, not to be borne down by the assumed superiority of this extraordinary old man, whose lofty and careless manner possessed an influence over him of which he felt ashamed.
"I am afraid you must ask of them in another quarter," said Maitre Pierre, composedly.
Quentin was again rebuffed, but not utterly disconcerted.

"Surely," he said to himself, "I do not pay this same burgess of Tours all the deference which I yield him, on account of the miserable obligation of a breakfast, though it was a right good and substantial meal.

Dogs and hawks are attached by feeding only--man must have kindness, if you would bind him with the cords of affection and obligation.

But he is an extraordinary person; and that beautiful emanation that is even now vanishing--surely a thing so fair belongs not to this mean place, belongs not even to the money gathering merchant himself, though he seems to exert authority over her, as doubtless he does over all whom chance brings within his little circle.

It is wonderful what ideas of consequence these Flemings and Frenchmen attach to wealth--so much more than wealth deserves, that I suppose this old merchant thinks the civility I pay to his age is given to his money.