"So, how did it go with Belle yesterday?" LeFou asked the next day.

"Great," Gaston boasted. "Giving her that book totally did the trick; I don't know why I didn't think of it sooner. I spent the entire afternoon at her house, and she invited me back today. You watch: she'll be eating out of my hand in no time." He grinned in a self-satisfied way, very pleased with himself.

"Wow!" LeFou was impressed. "So, what did you do at her house?"

"Oh…" Gaston said awkwardly. "Well…actually…she read a book to me."

LeFou snorted with laughter. "A book? That must have been torture!"

"Oh, it was," Gaston lied. He couldn't very well admit to LeFou that he had actually liked the story. He had a reputation to maintain. "But it's all just part of my plan to win Belle," he added quickly.

At that moment, Belle approached. "Ah, Belle! Good morning," Gaston greeted her.

Belle smiled warmly at him – something that had never happened before, he noted with satisfaction. "Bonjour, Gaston."

Gaston put his arm around her possessively. "Lovely day, isn't it?"

"Yes," she agreed. But she discreetly removed his arm from her shoulder, apparently finding the gesture too intimate at this point.

Gaston was miffed. She was so unbelievably hard to get! All the other girls in the village would have been swooning with joy if he'd put his arm around them. Belle's coyness was maddening. It frustrated him.

And yet…it also intrigued him, and made him that much more determined to have her for himself. Every other girl fell at his feet with no effort on his part at all. But Belle was different. She presented a real challenge. And Gaston never backed down from a challenge. When he finally did win Belle's hand – and he had no doubt he would – the triumph would be all the sweeter, he thought.

"How are you today, Gaston?" Belle asked in a friendly way.

"Wonderful!" Gaston proclaimed. "I went out hunting early this morning. By 8:00, I had gotten three geese, two rabbits,and a small deer. Now of course, for most men, that would be an amazingly successful haul after a full day of hunting. But for me, it was just a warmup." Gaston preened egotistically. "I was after something bigger. And an hour later, I saw it: a tremendous moose, about 800 lbs., with a huge rack of antlers. I knew it would make a fine trophy for my wall, and I was determined to have it. It was a good 90 yards away – an impossible shot, most would say. But not for someone as incredible as me! I raised my rifle, took aim…"

Gaston's words slowly ground to a halt as he looked at Belle. She was wearing that polite, slightly glazed look that she always had when he started talking about himself. Normally he would never have noticed it; he was much too self-absorbed to be observant of others' reactions. But the contrast between the enthusiasm, warmth, and friendliness she'd shown him yesterday, and the cool, forced smile she wore now, was so blatant that even he couldn't miss it.

He was frustrated. He wanted her to treat him the way she had yesterday. She had liked him then, at least a little. He had to have more of it. But how could he get her to act that way again? He frowned, trying to work it out.

Belle looked at him, puzzled as to why he'd fallen silent. "Is something wrong?"

"No," he said, still staring at her. Then, very slowly and deliberately, as though speaking a language foreign to him, he asked, "How was the book I gave you? Did you like it?"

Belle smiled, amusement in her eyes. "How kind of you to ask. Yes, it was wonderful. Thank you again for giving it to me."

Much better, Gaston reflected with satisfaction. She was definitely warmer than she had been a moment earlier. Gaston thought again, considering his next words. "What was it about?" he tried.

"It was a collection of fairy tales and folk tales. They were just the kind I like, too – full of magic and adventure and romance," said Belle happily. "One story was about a boy who found a magic lamp, and discovered that it held a genie who granted him three wishes. Another was about a mermaid who wanted to become human. My favorite was about a Chinese girl who dressed up like a boy so she could join the army."

Gaston wrinkled his nose in distaste. "A girl joining the army?"

Belle laughed at his incredulous expression. "Well, that's why she had to dress up like a boy! Because everyone around her had that exact attitude – that it was scandalous for a girl to do such a thing. But she ended up saving China."

"Which is why it's a make-believe story," Gaston said pompously. "A girl could never do that."

"Don't be so sure," Belle said with spirit. "There's more to some girls than meets the eye."

"Yes, I can see that," said Gaston, thinking about how strange and unpredictable Belle was. She acted so inappropriately for a girl! But there was something about her that fascinated him.

Belle looked at him kindly. She was definitely warming up to him, he thought. "So, Gaston," she said. "Do you still want to show me your trophies at the tavern?"

Gaston's eyes lit up. Yes! he thought. She was finally beginning to appreciate his magnificence. "Of course," he said casually. "Let's go."

At the tavern, Belle actually seemed to be listening as he pointed out each trophy and told the story of how he'd gotten each one. She even asked a few questions. But after a dozen trophies had been explained, she was starting to look tired. "This is fascinating, Gaston," she said diplomatically. "But why don't we save some for next time?"

Next time. Gaston was delighted to hear that there would be a next time. She was falling for him already, after only one day of his new strategy.

She'll be my wife in no time, he thought confidently. And then, like all women, she would be so happy being busy with babies and housework and doting on her husband, the way she was supposed to, that she would forget all about that silly reading nonsense.

Then he paused. Hmmm…well, except for an occasional Hercules story, since the powerful hero reminded him so much of himself, he amended. Those stories were good. He'd allow her to read them to him once in awhile, he thought, feeling very generous.

"And, I do have some errands to run," Belle was saying. "But you're coming to my house later to finish the book, right?"

Gaston glanced around quickly to see if anyone was listening. Fortunately, he and Belle were alone. Gaston breathed a sigh of relief that no one had heard Belle say that Gaston was going to join her in finishing a book. He'd never hear the end of it. "Yep. What time should I be there?"

"How about 4:00?" Belle suggested.

"Fine. See you then, Belle," he said. He walked off grinning, imagining how eagerly she would be counting the seconds till his arrival.

Belle headed to the bookstore. "Good morning, Monsieur Liseur!" she said cheerfully as she entered.

"Hello, Belle," said the bookseller. "How did you like the new book of fairy tales?"

"Oh, I loved it," Belle said happily. "I stayed up all night reading it."

"I'm glad you enjoyed it," Monsieur Liseur said. He hesitated, then added tentatively, "And…it seems you have a suitor."

Belle sat down with an embarrassed smile. "You noticed."

"Are you…glad about it?" Monsieur Liseur asked. He didn't want to offend her by prying, but he felt protective of her, almost like a father.

"Truthfully? I'm really not sure," she replied honestly. "If you'd asked me two days ago, I would have said 'no' immediately. Gaston's been after me for months, but his idea of 'wooing' me was to throw my books in the mud and tell me it was wrong for a woman to read. And then start bragging about his hunting trophies, and how handsome and wonderful he is. I couldn't stand him!"

"I see," said Monsieur Liseur. "And now?"

She shrugged helplessly. "He's conceited, and arrogant, and he believes a woman shouldn't think at all, just cook and clean and serve a man's every whim. He's everything I despise." She was silent a moment, considering. "But…the fact that he actually boughtme a book, even though he hates them…that surprised me. It was definitely flattering. Even kind of sweet. He even let me read a book aloud to him yesterday. I never thought I'd see that day that would happen!

"And today, he started out bragging about his hunting like he always does, but when he saw I didn't like it, he stopped. And then he asked me about my book – whether I liked it, what it was about." She chuckled. "I could see the effort he was making, struggling not to talk about himself and to say things I'd like. It was funny, really. Of course, I realize that he's just doing it to impress me. His usual tactics didn't work on me, so he's simply trying something new. But still…just the fact that he is trying…it's more than I ever would have expected from him. It's kind of endearing, in a way."

"I see," said Monsieur Liseur. He paused, trying to decide how he felt about it all. "You know, Belle, I've always thought of you as the daughter I've never had. I want the best for you."

"Thank you," said Belle. "But…?"

"Well…" the bookseller said. "For any other girl in town, Gaston would be a prize catch. He's handsome, he's strong, he's a good provider. But Belle – you're so bright, so exceptional. You deserve someone who can appreciate you. I'd love to see you with a brilliant, educated young man who truly values your intelligence. Someone who can talk knowledgeably with you about literature, and poetry, and all the things that you like."

Belle smiled dreamily. "Oh, wouldn't that be wonderful?" Then she sighed. "But let's be honest: I'm never going to find a man like that in this town."

"That's true," he agreed sadly. "But I'd hate to see you settle for less than you deserve."

Belle laughed. "I've only been talking with Gaston – I'm not marrying him!"she pointed out. Then she turned serious. "But…well…I've been so lonely here, Monsieur Liseur. You know that. You're the only one I can really talk to. I've never fit in here. Everyone thinks I'm odd, just because I like to read. And Gaston was always the worst about it. But now, for some reason, he seems more willing to let me be myself. Strange as it seems, I actually had a good time with him yesterday. I even got him to admit that some books can be enjoyable." She smiled at the memory.

Then she sighed, feeling confused. "But to answer your earlier question: I honestly don't know what will come of it. Or if I even want anything to come of it. It's just…nice to have someone acting friendly to me for a change, instead of looking at me like I'm crazy. Does that make sense?"

"Of course it does," said Monsieur Liseur reassuringly. "And I am glad to see you having a good time. When you came in here today, you looked happier than I've seen you in quite a while. I can't be upset about that! Just don't let Gaston pressure you into marrying him or doing anything else that you don't want to do. He can be very insistent, you know."

"Insistent, bossy, stubborn, and egotistical," Belle said ruefully. "Believe me, I know. He's no Prince Charming, that's for sure!" She looked thoughtful. "But…he can behave like a human being sometimes. When he's not being completely obnoxious, that is."

Monsieur Liseur smiled. "You have a good head on your shoulders, Belle," he said. "I know you'll be fine, whatever happens. Now, did you want to pick out a new book?"

"All right," said Belle. She immediately turned to the fairy tale shelf, her favorite. But then she paused as a thought struck her. "Hmmm…." She walked a few feet away to another shelf, ran her finger along the spines, and pulled out a book. "This one. Is it okay if I keep it a few days? Maybe even a week?"

"Of course, Belle." The bookseller looked at her choice. "Achilles, eh? Not your usual style."

"I know," Belle said. She shrugged. "Let's just say I'm trying something new. An experiment, you could say." She put the book into her basket. "Thanks. I'll see you tomorrow!"

She headed next to the shop of Mme. Reinard, the seamstress. Maurice's socks needed darning, and Belle had run out of thread the day before. But to her surprise, the shop was crowded with girls.

"What's going on?" she asked Bambi, one of the blonde triplets.

The blonde girl rolled her eyes. "Don't you know? They announced the date of theannual village dance! It's the biggest event of the whole year! We're here to get new dresses." She looked Belle up and down and added, "But I don't suppose you'll be going. You'll probably be too busy reading that night." Her sisters giggled.

"Probably," agreed Belle with a smile, refusing to take the bait. She had learned that the best way to deal with the triplets was to act completely unaware of their insults. Then they had no ammunition.

She tried to get Mme. Reinard's attention so she could buy a spool of thread, but the harried old woman was too busy dealing with dozens of impatient girls to notice. I'd better come back another time, Belle thought.

At the door, she paused and looked back at the girls exclaiming over the brightly-colored fabrics and ribbons and bows, trying on finished dresses to the admiration of their friends, and eagerly speculating as to which young man would be their escort for the evening. She felt a bit wistful, watching them. Missing the dance itself didn't bother her; she'd never been one for primping and flirting and batting her eyes. What did bother her was feeling like an outcast - a girl who didn't fit in. Every other girl in town was obsessed with looking pretty and landing a husband. Belle was different. Because of that, everyone thought she was odd, and she had no friends her age, no one to talk to.

She headed home, feeling loneliness threaten to overwhelm her. Another dull evening, another dinner with my father, she thought with a sigh.

Then she remembered. Gaston was coming over. The thought cheered her up at once. She had company to look forward to.

But immediately on the heels of that thought came another. I must be worse off than I thought, if I'm happy at the thought of seeing GASTON, of all people! she thought ruefully.Was she so desperate for a friend that she would welcome even a conceited, arrogant, selfish brute? She certainly hoped not.

Then she reconsidered. No. She was being too hard on herself, she realized. The only reason she had become friendly with Gaston was that he himself had begun acting nicer to her. If he were still as rude and obnoxious as before, she wouldn't want his company even if he was the last man on earth, she knew.

But that got her to thinking. Gaston had bought her a book as a present. He had allowed her to read "Hercules" to him, and he had enjoyed it despite himself. He was coming to her house again today, for the sole purpose of finishing the story. Was there a chance there might be more to him than met the eye –a "diamond in the rough," so to speak? Could she read him more stories he'd like – even get him to start reading books on his own? Maybe even introduce him to great literature?

She chided herself. It was a totally ridiculous notion! But once the idea took hold, she couldn't shake it. She found herself picturing cozy evenings with Gaston talking about books, analyzing poetry, debating philosophy…She laughed at the way she was getting ahead of herself. Gaston was hardly a philosopher! But she couldn't quell the hope that rose within her. It sounded crazy…but two days ago, the idea of Gaston – the avowed book hater - actually wanting to hear a book read aloud would have sounded crazy too. People were unpredictable, and anything was possible. She hurried home, suddenly feeling cheerful.