Ferdinand smiled.
‘It is true, he has a heart and a brain. Old Castlefyshe has neither. As for the rest of our friends, some have hearts without brains, and the rest brains without hearts. Which do you prefer?’
‘’Tis a fine question,’ said Ferdinand; ‘and yet I confess I should like to be callous.’
‘Ah! but you cannot be,’ said the Count, ‘you have a soul of great sensibility; I see that in a moment.’
‘You see very far, and very quickly, Count Mirabel,’ said Ferdinand, with a little reserve.
‘Yes; in a minute,’ said the Count, ‘in a minute I read a person’s character. I know you are very much in love, because you changed countenance yesterday when we were talking of women.’
Ferdinand changed countenance again. ‘You are a very extraordinary man, Count,’ he at length observed.
‘Of course; but, mon cher Armine, what a fine day this is! What are you going to do with yourself?’
‘Nothing; I never do anything,’ said Ferdinand, in an almost mournful tone.
‘A melancholy man! Quelle bêtise! I will cure you. I will be your friend and put you all right. Now, we will just drive down to Richmond; we will have a light dinner, a flounder, a cutlet, and a bottle of champagne, and then we will go to the French play. I will introduce you to Jenny Vertpré. She is full of wit; perhaps she will ask us to supper. Allons, mon ami, mon cher Armine; allons, mon brave!’ Ceremony was a farce with Alcibiades de Mirabel.