En attendant Monsieur Meyler, my landlord was kind enough to show me a few of the Paris Lions. We went to the Palais Royale, where I saw more fine women than were to be met with in any other part of Paris. We visited the Louvre, and there I saw many fine statues; but I have forgotten all about every one of them except the Apollo Belvidere, and that I shall remember for ever; not for its beauty, but for the appearance of life, fire, and animation, which never can be described nor imagined by anybody who has not seen it. The quivering lips—the throat! Surely there was life and pulsation about that statue! It is said, that a fair lady once sat by the Apollo, whom she could not warm, till she went raving mad, and in that state died. I really think that, if they had not come to divert my attention, I should have been in danger of following her example.
"We are free as air, you know, my dear," said Meyler, on the very first night of his arrival, in Paris. "I have been most true to you for more than two years, nor am I tired of you now in the least; but, never having had an intrigue with a Frenchwoman, and being here for the first time, of course I must try them merely for fun, and to have something to talk about. You know, a young man with thirty thousand a year must try everything once in his life; but I shall love you the better afterwards."
"A delightful plan," said I, striving with all the power of my mind to conceal my rage and jealousy, "provided it be mutually followed up, and I can conceive nothing more agreeable than our meeting, about once a week or so, and passing a day together for the sole purpose of hearing each other's adventures."
"Oh nonsense! Mere threats," said Meyler. "I don't believe you will ever be inconstant. You are in fact too constant for Paris. One has enough of all that hum-drum stuff in England. I am sure I have had enough of it for the last two years, and begin to wish there was no such thing as constancy in the world."
I could have almost murdered Meyler for this insulting speech; but that pride made me force myself to seem of his way of thinking.
"Where are you staying?" I inquired with affected carelessness.
"At the Hôtel de Hollande, exactly opposite your own door," he replied.
"Never mind," said I, "I shall not have time to watch you."
"What are you going to do this evening?" Meyler inquired, growing uneasy, and more in love as he began to believe in my indifference.