rent!" Yet this was once the bon vivant Préfet of the empire ;—and that, the languid, fantastical femme incomprise !—

Madame de la Bélinaye, the graceful woman to whom I had applied for release from my nightmare, was one of those charming creatures one seldom meets out of Paris, content to shine as an exquisite component segment of a circle, without ever seeking to detach herself from the canvas as a prominent feature. The ambition of a French beauty is to be "belle parmi les belles"-of an English beauty, to make other women look ugly.—An English beauty likes to eclipse, and longs to astonish.-Madame de la Bélinaye and others of her kind, would have been shocked at the idea of astonishing. A woman parfaitement comme il faut, should never appear where she is not too well assorted with the time and place, the season and the scene, to produce or wish to produce so vulgar a sensation.

On making her acquaintance, it never occurred

to me to ask myself what might be her age,what her position in the world. She was so admirably dressed, her gauze turban so light, so fresh, si bien posé,-and the ringlets accompanying it were so silken,-her form was so exquisitely moulded, her hand so slender and so well-gloved, that I was too enchanted with her tournure as a whole, to analyze its parts. She was thoroughly "charmante!" After all, why should not dress have its charm as well as any other acomplishment? People fall in love with a woman's singing or drawing;purely artificial acquirements, addressing

themselves to the eye or ear, and not a whit more indicative of refinement of taste than the fastidiousness which produces a chef d'œuvre of l'art de la toilette!

It is absurd to underrate an instinct so essential to the garnish of society. Look at the result of such contempt, in those figures of fun which disgrace the public places of England ;consolidated rainbows,-moving flower gar

dens,-masses of flowers and feathers, heavy trinkets and dirty finery,-who expend fortunes in haberdashers' shops for the express purpose of making themselves ridiculous.

Madame de la Bélinaye, I am convinced, had never been in a haberdasher's shop in her life -The few ornaments of her dress were so simple, so subdued, and owed their merit so entirely to their appropriateness to her compact figure and well-turned head, that one could not fancy her otherwise than one saw her at the moment.-Her dress appeared intrinsically a portion of herself. It was impossible to say, as one often does of English women, "how much better she would have been with, or without,-so and so!"

No

It was the same with her conversation. wonder the fable of the little Princess who dropped pearls and diamonds from her lips, had its origin in France!-Every thing that fell from her lips was either sparkling with liveliness, or bien arrondi,-bien perlé,-by its

polite and gracious form. After talking with her a whole evening, it would have been difficult to recall a single sentence she had uttered. Yet at the time, every phrase seemed so distinct, every sentiment so graceful, that one fancied one must remember them for ever.— She was, in short, a creation of four centuries of civilization;-one of those fleet, sleek, slender products of the racing stud of refinement,— the Newmarket founded by Francis I., with a king's plate for elegance of costume, manners, and conversation!—

I am almost afraid that the night of my presentation to Madame de la Bélinaye, the face which haunted my sleepless pillow was adorned by an aërial turban, and looked at me through two hazel eyes rather than through the grey orbs of my Sophronia.-But it could not be helped!

My attention, however, was not wholly absorbed by this attractive woman.-There was a great deal to interest one at the Tuileries.

The game of courtiership is always more exciting when there are combinations to be made; and the rival camps of the two daughters-inlaw of the King,-the childless Dauphine and the young mother of the heir presumptive, was highly diverting.-The severe prudery of the former, the thoughtless Italian gaiety of the latter, produced incessant disgusts, and endless jealousies; not the less irritating for the harness of family affection by which they were yoked together.

I sometimes fancied I could discover in the two royal sisters-in-law, the Elizabeth and Mary of other times. But Madame was wanting in the beauty, and the Dauphiness in the enlightenment, forming the best characteristics of the two queens; though I believe the same motive lay at the bottom of their antipathy:i. e. that the son of the one was to inherit the dominions of the other.

I cannot say that, either as Madame d'Angoulême or Dauphiness, I ever fancied the lady