"To be sure; for, having no passions in the forest, we might be bored here."
"But, monsieur le baron, I don't understand this at all."
"Monsieur Ménard, I am acting like a man who knows the human heart, especially that of a young man. If we had undertaken to thwart his wishes, Frédéric would have been quite capable of doing some insane thing. Instead of that, let us allow him to follow his inclination. I will answer for it that, in a fortnight at the latest, his love, being satisfied, will have calmed down, and he will have recovered his senses. There is no passion deep enough to stand a tête-à-tête of three consecutive weeks. Love is a fire which goes out of itself, because it never has sense enough to be sparing of its fuel."
"Faith! monsieur le baron, I begin to think that you are right."
"To horse, then, Monsieur Ménard, and vive la gaieté! To-morrow, I will take you to dine with our friend Chambertin."
"Really, monsieur le baron?"
"And I promise you that we'll make an entry into the village that will cause a sensation."
"I don't understand you, monsieur le baron; but you arrange things so well, that I rely on you."
And Ménard, overjoyed at the prospect of going to Monsieur Chambertin's the next day, dug his heels into his horse's sides for the first time in his life,—to be sure, he had no spurs,—and trotted along at Dubourg's side.
"Still, it's a great pity that my pupil has made this new acquaintance," he said; "a woman sometimes makes a man commit many follies! Cato said that wisdom and common sense were incompatible with a woman's mind."