the
species Connoisseur. He leaves you to go to Perignon's or Tripet's. To
him, Madame Firmiani is a collection of painted canvases.
A Woman: "Madame Firmiani? I don't wish you to visit her." This remark
is rich in meanings. Madame Firmiani! dangerous woman! a siren! dresses
well, has taste; gives other women sleepless nights. Your informant
belongs to the genus Spiteful.
An Attache to an embassy: "Madame Firmiani? Isn't she from Antwerp? I
saw her ten years ago in Rome; she was very handsome then." Individuals
of the species Attache have a mania for talking in the style
of Talleyrand. Their wit is often so refined that the point is
imperceptible; they are like billiard-players who avoid hitting the ball
with consummate dexterity. These individuals are usually taciturn, and
when they talk it is only about Spain, Vienna, Italy, or Petersburg.
Names of countries act like springs in their mind; press them, and the
ringing of their changes begins.
"That Madame Firmiani sees a great deal of the faubourg Saint-Germain,
doesn't she?" This from a person who desires to belong to the class
Distinguished. She gives the "de" to everybody,--to Monsieur Dupin
senior, to Monsieur Lafayette; she flings it right and left and
humiliates many. This woman spends her life in striving to know and do
"the right thing"; but, for her sins, she lives in the Marais, and her
husband is a lawyer,--a lawyer before the Royal courts, however.
"Madame Firmiani, monsieur? I do not know her." This man belongs to the
species Duke. He recognizes none but the women who have been presented
at court. Pray excuse him, he was one of Napoleon's creations.
"Madame Firmiani? surely she used to sing at the Opera-house." Species
Ninny. The individuals of this species have an answer for everything.
They will tell lies sooner than say nothing.
Two old ladies, wives of former magistrates: The First (wears a cap
with bows, her face is wrinkled, her nose sharp, voice hard, carries
a prayer-book in her hand): "What was that Madame Firmiani's maiden
name?"--The Second (small face red as a crab-apple, gentle voice):
"She was a Cadignan, my dear, niece of the old Prince de Cadignan,
consequently cousin to the present Duc de Maufrigneuse."
Madame Firmiani is a Cadignan. She might have neither virtue, nor
wealth, nor youth, but she would still be a Cadignan; it is like a
prejudice, always alive and working.
An Original: "My dear fellow, I've seen no galoshes
|