“Well, my lord,” said La Ramee, falling into the trap, “what is there to prevent your trying them? Besides, I have promised him your patronage.”
“You are right,” said the duke. “If I am to remain here permanently, as Monsieur Mazarin has kindly given me to understand, I must provide myself with a diversion for my old age, I must turn gourmand.”
“My lord,” said La Ramee, “if you will take a bit of good advice, don’t put that off till you are old.”
“Good!” said the Duc de Beaufort to himself, “every man in order that he may lose his heart and soul, must receive from celestial bounty one of the seven capital sins, perhaps two; it seems that Master La Ramee’s is gluttony. Let us then take advantage of it.” Then, aloud:
“Well, my dear La Ramee! the day after to-morrow is a holiday.”
“Yes, my lord—Pentecost.”
“Will you give me a lesson the day after to-morrow?”
“In what?”
“In gastronomy?”
“Willingly, my lord.”