Prince　Grenouille〃　had　proved　extremely　funny；　for　it　was　all　that　Jeanne　could　do；　as　she　crouched　down　there　on　the　carpet；　to　keep　herself　from　bursting　into　a　wild　fit　of　laughter。　　But　when　she　had　finished　with　the　prince　and　princess　of　the　story；　and　the　multitude　of　their　children；　she　assumed　a　very　suppliant　expression；　and　begged　me　as　a　great　favour　to　allow　her　to　put　on　a　white　apron　and　go　to　the　kitchen　to　help　in　getting　the　dinner　ready。
  〃Jeanne；〃　I　replied；　with　the　gravity　of　a　master；　〃I　think　that　if　it　is　a　question　of　breaking　plates；　knocking　off　the　edges　of　dishes；　denting　all　the　pans；　and　smashing　all　the　skimmers；　the　person　whom　Therese　has　set　to　work　in　the　kitchen　already　will　be　able　to　perform　her　task　without　assistance；　for　it　seems　to　me　at　this　very　moment　I　can　hear　disastrous　noises　in　that　kitchen。　　But　anyhow；　Jeanne；　I　will　charge　you　with　the　duty　of　preparing　the　dessert。　　So　go　and　get　your　white　apron；　I　will　tie　it　on　for　you。〃
  Accordingly；　I　solemnly　knotted　the　linen　apron　about　her　waist；　and　she　rushed　into　the　kitchen；　where　she　proceeded　at　onceas　we　discovered　later　onto　prepare　various　dishes　unknown　to　Vatel；　unknown　even　to　that　great　Careme　who　began　his　treatise　upon　pieces　montees　with　these　words：　〃The　Fine　Arts　are　five　in　number：　Painting；　Music；　Poetry；　Sculpture；　and　Architecturewhereof　the　principal　branch　is　Confectionery。〃　　But　I　had　no　reason　to　be　pleased　with　this　little　arrangementfor　Mademoiselle　Prefere；　on　finding　herself　alone　with　me；　began　to　act　after　a　fashion　which　filled　me　with　frightful　anxiety。　　She　gazed　upon　me　with　eyes　full　of　tears　and　flames；　and　uttered　enormous　sighs。
  〃Oh；　how　I　pity　you！〃　she　said。　　〃A　man　like　youa　man　so　superior　as　you　arehaving　to　live　alone　with　a　coarse　servant　（for　she　is　certainly　coarse；　that　is　incontestable）！　　How　cruel　such　a　life　must　be！　　You　have　need　of　reposeyou　have　need　of　comfort；　of　care；　of　every　kind　of　attention；　you　might　fall　sick。　　And　yet　there　is　no　woman　who　would　not　deem　it　an　honour　to　bear　your　name；　and　to　share　your　existence。　　No；　there　is　none；　my　own　heart　tells　me　so。〃
  And　she　squeezed　both　hands　over　that　heart　of　hersalways　so　ready　to　fly　away。
  I　was　driven　almost　to　distraction。　　I　tried　to　make　Mademoiselle　Prefere　comprehend　that　I　had　no　intention　whatever　of　changing　my　habits　at　so　advanced　an　age；　and　that　I　found　just　as　much　happiness　in　life　as　my　character　and　my　circumstances　rendered　possible。
  〃No；　you　are　not　happy！〃　she　cried。　　〃You　need　to　have　always　beside　you　a　mind　capable　of　comprehending　your　own。　　Shake　off　your　lethargy；　and　cast　your　eyes　about　you。　　Your　professional　connections　are　of　the　most　extended　character；　and　you　must　have　charming　acquaintances。　　One　cannot　be　a　Member　of　the　Institute　without　going　into　society。　　See；　judge；　compare。　　No　sensible　woman　would　refuse　you　her　hand。　　I　am　a　woman；　Monsieur；　my　instinct　never　deceives　methere　is　something　within　me　which　assures　me　that　you　would　find　happiness　in　marriage。　　Women　are　so　devoted；　so　loving　（not　all；　of　course；　but　some）！　　And；　then；　they　are　so　sensitive　to　glory。　Remember　that　at　your　age　one　has　need；　like　Oedipus；　of　an　Egeria！　Your　cook　is　no　longer　ableshe　is　deaf；　she　is　infirm。　　If　anything　should　happen　to　you　at　night！　　Oh！　it　makes　me　shudder　even　to　think　of　it！〃
  And　she　really　shudderedshe　closed　her　eyes；　clenched　her　hands；　stamped　on　the　floor。　　Great　was　my　dismay。　　With　awful　intensity　she　resumed；
  〃Your　healthyour　dear　health！　　The　health　of　a　Member　of　the　Institute！　　How　joyfully　I　would　shed　the　very　last　drop　of　my　blood　to　preserve　the　life　of　a　scholar；　of　a　litterateur；　of　a　man　of　worth。　　And　any　woman　who　would　not　do　as　much；　I　should　despise　her！　Let　me　tell　you；　MonsieurI　used　to　know　the　wife　of　a　great　mathematician；　a　man　who　used　to　fill　whole　note…books　with　calculationsso　many　note…books　that　they　filled　all　the　cupboards　in　the　house。　　He　had　heart…disease；　and　he　was　visibly　pining　away。　And　I　saw　that　wife　of　his；　sitting　there　beside　him；　perfectly　calm！　I　could　not　endure　it。　　I　said　to　her　one　day；　'My　dear；　you　have　no　heart！　　If　I　were　in　your　place　I　should。。。I　should。。。I　do　not　know　what　I　should　do！'〃
  She　paused　for　want　of　breath。　　My　situation　was　terrible。　　As　for　telling　Mademoiselle　Prefere　what　I　really　thought　about　her　advice　that　was　something　which　I　could　not　even　dream　of　daring　to　do。　For　to　fall　out　with　her　was　to　lose　the　chance　of　seeing　Jeanne。　So　I　resolved　to　take　the　matter　quietly。　　In　any　case；　she　was　in　my　house：　　that　consideration　helped　me　to　treat　her　with　something　of　courtesy。
  〃I　am　very　old；　Mademoiselle；〃　I　answered　her；　〃and　I　am　very　much　afraid　that　your　advice　comes　to　me　rather　late　in　life。　　Still；　I　will　think　about　it。　　In　the　meanwhile　let　me　beg　of　you　to　be　calm。　　I　think　a　glass　of　eau　sucree　would　do　you　good！〃
  To　my　great　surprise；　these　words　calmed　her　at　once；　and　I　saw　her　sit　down　very　quietly　in　HER　corner；　close　to　HER　pigeon…hole；　upon　HER　chair；　with　her　feet　upon　HER　footstool。
  The　dinner　was　a　complete　failure。　　Mademoiselle　Prefere；　who　seemed　lost　in　a　brown　study；　never　noticed　the　fact。　　As　a　rule　I　am　very　sensitive　about　such　misfortunes；　but　this　one　caused　Jeanne　so　much　delight　that　at　last　I　could　not　help　enjoying　it　myself。　　Even　at　my　age　I　had　not　been　able　to　learn　before　that　a　chicken；　raw　on　one　side　and　burned　on　the　other；　was　a　funny　thing；　but　Jeanne's　bursts　of　laughter　taught　me　that　it　was。　　That　chicken　caused　us　to　say　a　thousand　very　witty　things；　which　I　have　forgotten；　and　I　was　enchanted　that　it　had　not　been　properly　cooked。　　Jeanne　put　it　back　to　roast　again；　then　she　broiled　it；　then　she　stewed　it　with　butter。　And　every　time　it　came　back　to　the　table　it　was　much　less　appetising　and　much　more　mirth…provoking　than　before。　　When　we　did　eat　it；　at　last；　it　had　become　a　thing　for　which　there　is　no　name　in　any　cuisine。
  The　almond　cake　was　much　more　extraordinary。　　It　was　brought　to　the　table　in　the　pan；　because　it　never　could　have　got　out　of　it。　　I　invited　Jeanne　to　help　us　all　to　a　piece　thinking　that　I　was　going　to　embarrass　her；　but　she　broke　the　pan　and　gave　each　of　us　a　fragment。　　To　think　that　anybody　at　my　age　could　eat　such　things　was　an　idea　possible　only　to　the　very　artless　mind。　　Mademoiselle　Prefere；　suddenly　awakened　from　her　dream；　indignantly　pushed　away　the　sugary　splinter　of　earthenware；　and　deemed　it　opportune　to　inform　me　that　she　herself　was　exceedingly　skilful　in　making　confectionery。
  〃Ah！〃　exclaimed　Jeanne；　with　an　air　of　surprise　not　altogether　without　malice。　　Then　she　wrapped　all　the　fragments　of　the　pan　in　a　piece　of　paper；　for　the　purpose　of　giving　them　to　her　little　playmates　especially　to　the　three　little　Mouton　girls；　who　are　naturally　inclined　to　gluttony。
  Secretly；　however；　I　was　beginning　to　feel　very　uneasy。　　It　did　not　now　seem　in　any　way　possible　to　keep　much　longer　upon　good　terms　with　Mademoiselle　Prefere　since　her　matrimonial　fury　had　this　burst　forth。　　And　that　lady　affronted；　good…bye　to　Jeanne！　　I　took　advantage　of　a　moment　while　the　sweet　soul　was　busy　putting　on　her　cloak；　in　order　to　ask　Jeanne　to　tell　me　exactly　what　her　own　age　was。　　She　was　eighteen　years　and　one　month　old。　　I　counted　on　my　fingers；　and　found　she　would　not　come　of　age　for　another　two　years　and　eleven　months。　　And　how　should　we　be　able　to　manage　during　all　that　time？
  At　the　door　Mademoiselle　Prefere　squeezed　my　hand　with　so　much　meaning　that　I　fairly　shook　from　head　to　foot。
  〃Good…bye；〃　I　said　very　gravely　to　the　young　girl。　　〃But　listen　to　me　a　moment：　　your　friend　is　very　old；　and　might　perhaps　fail　you　when　you　need　him　most。　　Promise　me　never　to　fail　in　your　duty　to　yourself；　and　then　I　shall　have　no　fear。　　God　keep　you；　my　child！〃
  After　closing　the　door　behind　them；　I　opened　the　window　to　get　a　last　look　at　her　as　she　was　going　away。　　But　the　night　was　dark；　and　I　could　see　only　two　vague　shadows　flitting　across　the　quay。　　I　heard　the　vast　deep　hom　of　the　city　rising　up　about　me；　and　I　suddenly　felt　a　great　sinking　at　my　heart。
  Poor　child！
  December　15。
  The　King　of　Thule　kept　a　goblet　of　gold　which　his　dying　mistress　had　bequeathed　him　as　a　souvenir。　　When　about　to　die　himself；　after　having　drunk　from　it　for　the　last　time；　he　threw　the　goblet　into　the　sea。　　And　I　keep　this　diary　of　memories　even　as　that　old　prince　of　the　mist…haunted　seas　kept　his　carven　goblet；　and　even　as　he　flung　away　at　last　his　love…pledge；　so　will　I　burn　this　book　of　souvenirs。　Assuredly　it　is　not　through　any　arrogant　avarice　nor　through　any　egotistical　pride；　that　I　shall　destroy　this　record　of　a　humble　lifeit　is　only　because　I　fear　lest　those　things　which　are　dear　and　sacred　to　me　might　appear　before　others；　because　of　my　inartistic　manner　of　expression；　either　commonplace　or　absurd。
  I　do　not　say　this　in　view　of　what　is　going　to　follow。　　Absurd　I　certainly　must　have　been　when；　having　been　invited　to　dinner　by　Mademoiselle　Prefere；　I　took　my　seat　in　a　bergere　（it　was　really　a　bergere）　at　the　right　hand　of　that　alarming　person。　　The　table　had　been　set　in　a　little　parlour；　and　I　could　observe　from　t