beautiful, and the
scant dresses revealed taper forms. Madame de Ferrier's garments may
have been white or blue or yellow; I remember only her satin arms and
neck, the rosy color of her face, and the powder on her hair making it
white as down. Where this assembly was collected from I did not know,
but it acted on the spirits and went like volatile essence to the brain.

"Pheugh!" exclaimed Miss Chantry, "how the French smell!"

I asked her why, if she detested them so, she lived in a French family,
and she replied that Count de Chaumont was an exception, being almost
English in his tastes. He had lived out of France since his father came
over with La Fayette to help the rebellious Americans.

I did not know who the rebellious Americans were, but inferred that
they were people of whom Miss Chantry thought almost as little as she
did of the French.

Croghan looked quite a boy among so many experienced gallants, but well
appointed in his dress and stepping through the figures featly. He was,
Miss Chantry said, a student of William and Mary College.

"This company of gentry will be widely scattered when it disperses
home," she told us. "There is at least one man from over-seas."

I thought of the Grignon and Tank families, who were probably on the
road to Albany. Miss Chantry bespoke her brother's attention.

"There he is."

"Who?" the doctor inquired.

"His highness," she incisively responded, "Prince Jerome Bonaparte."

I remembered my father had said that Bonaparte was a great soldier in a
far off country, and directly asked Miss Chantry if the great soldier
was in the ball-room.

She breathed a snort and turned upon my master. "Pray, are you teaching
this lad to call that impostor the great soldier?"

Doctor Chantry denied the charge and cast a weak-eyed look of surprise
at me.

I said my father told me Bonaparte was a great soldier, and begged to
know if he had been deceived.

"Oh!" Miss Chantry responded in a tone which slighted Thomas Williams.
"Well! I will tell you facts. Napoleon Bonaparte is one of the worst and
most dangerous men that ever lived. He sets the world by the ears, and
carries war into every country of Europe. That is his youngest brother
yonder--that superfine gallant, in the long-tailed white silk coat down
to his heels, and white small-clothes, with diamond buckles in his
shoes, and grand lace stock and ruffles. Jerome Bonaparte spent last
winter in Baltimore; and they say he is