Meantime, I
had relaxed but little in my attentions, though one object in the
family did me both good and harm, making me more secure from
exterior dissipation, but less attentive to my duty.
Mademoiselle de Breil was about my own age, tolerably handsome and
very fair complexioned, with black hair, which, notwithstanding,
gave to her features that air of softness so natural to the flaxen,
and which my heart could never resist. The court dress, so favorable
to youth, showed her fine neck and shape to advantage, and the
mourning, which was then worn, seemed to add to her beauty. It will be
said, a domestic should not take notice of these things; I was
certainly to blame, yet I perceived all this, nor was I the only
one; the maitre d'hotel and valet de chambre spoke of her sometimes at
table with a vulgarity that pained me extremely. My head, however, was
not sufficiently turned to allow of my being entirely in love; I did
not forget myself, or my situation. I loved to see Mademoiselle de
Breil; to hear her utter anything that marked wit, sense, or good
humor; my ambition, confined to a desire of waiting on her, never
exceeded its just rights. At table I was ever attentive to make the
most of them; if her footman quitted her chair, I instantly supplied
his place; in default of this, I stood facing her, seeking in her eyes
what she was about to ask for, and watching the moment to change her
plate. What would I not have given to hear her command, to have her
look at, or speak the smallest word to me! but no, I had the
mortification to be beneath her regard; she did not even perceive I
was there.
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