I had scarcely been with my two sweethearts for an hour when the syndic interrupted my erotic exploits by begging me to go.

“What have you done with Helen?” I asked.

“Nothing; she’s a simpleton, and an intractable one.  She hid under the sheets and would not look at my performance with her friend.”

“You ought to go to her direct.”

“I have done so, but she repulsed me again and again.  I have given it up, and shall not try it again, unless you will tame her for me.”

“How is it to be done?”

“Come to dinner to-morrow.  I shall be away at Geneva.  I shall be back by supper-time.  I wish we could give her too much to drink!”

“That would be a pity.  Let me see what I can do.”

I accordingly went to dine with them by myself the next day, and they entertained me in all the force of the word.  After dinner we went for a walk, and the three friends understanding my aims left me alone with the intractable girl, who resisted my caresses in a manner which almost made me give up the hope of taming her.

“The syndic,” said I, “is in love with you, and last night . . .

“Last night,” she said, “he amused himself with his old friend.  I am for everyone’s following their own tastes, but I expect to be allowed to follow mine.”

“If I could gain your heart I should be happy.”

“Why don’t you invite the pastor and my cousin to dine with you?  I could come too, for the pastor makes much of everyone who loves his niece.”

“I am glad to hear that.  Has she a lover?”

“No.”

“I can scarcely believe it.  She is young, pretty, agreeable, and very clever.”

“You don’t understand Genevan ways.  It is because she is so clever that no young man falls in love with her.  Those who might be attracted by her personal charms hold themselves aloof on account of her intellectual capacities, as they would have to sit in silence before her.”

“Are the young Genevans so ignorant, then?”

“As a rule they are.  Some of them have received excellent educations, but in a general way they are full of prejudice.  Nobody wishes to be considered a fool or a blockhead, but clever women are not appreciated; and if a girl is witty or well educated she endeavors to hide her lights, at least if she desires to be married.”

“Ah! now I see why you did not open your lips during our discussion.”

“No, I know I have nothing to hide.  This was not the motive which made me keep silence, but the pleasure of listening.  I admired my cousin, who was not afraid to display her learning on a subject which any other girl would have affected to know nothing about.”

“Yes, affected, though she might very probably know as much as her grandmother.”

“That’s a matter of morals, or rather of prejudices.”

“Your reasoning is admirable, and I am already longing for the party you so cleverly suggested:”