o be met somewhere about the city, none thought
of describing him, and she did not push that question because she had
sketched him for herself, and rather wished, the more she heard of his
genius, to keep him repulsive. It appeared that his bravery was as well
proved as his genius, and a brilliant instance of it had been given in
the city not long since. He had her ideas, and he won multitudes with
them: he was a talker, a writer, and an orator; and he was learned, while
she could not pretend either to learning or to a flow of rhetoric. She
could prattle deliciously, at times pointedly, relying on her intuition
to tell her more than we get from books, and on her sweet impudence for a
richer original strain. She began to appreciate now a reputation for
profound acquirements. Learned professors of jurisprudence and history
were as enthusiastic for Alvan in their way as Count Kollin. She heard
things related of Alvan by the underbreath. That circle below her own,
the literary and artistic, idolized him; his talk, his classic breakfasts
and suppers, his undisguised ambition, his indomitable energy, his
dauntlessness and sway over her sex, were subjects of eulogy all round
her; and she heard of an enamoured baroness. No one blamed Alvan. He had
shown his chivalrous valour in defending her. The baroness was not a
young woman, and she was a hardbound Blue. She had been the first to
discover the prodigy, and had pruned, corrected, and published him; he
was one of her political works, promising to be the most successful. An
old affair apparently; but the association of a woman's name with
Alvan's, albeit the name of a veteran, roused the girl's curiosity,
leading her to think his mental and magnetic powers must be of the very
highest, considering his physical repulsiveness, for a woman of rank to
yield him such extreme devotion. She commissioned her princely
serving-man, who had followed and was never far away from her, to obtain
precise intelligence of this notorious Alvan.

Prince Marko did what he could to please her; he knew something of the
rumours about Alvan and the baroness. But why should his lady trouble
herself for particulars of such people, whom it could scarcely be
supposed she would meet by accident? He asked her this. Clotilde said it
was common curiosity. She read him a short lecture on the dismal
narrowness of their upper world; and on the advantage of taking an
interest in the world below them and more enlighte