t meaning. There was admiration, indeed, but
blended with something of tender pity and compassion. What would I not
have given to have been able to read this glance aright! No time was
given me to think on the theme, for Margot now, with a kind of half
impetuous curiosity, asked me for my adventures.

"Tell us all, everything," said she, laughingly,--"your successes, your
failures, your hopes, your loves, your joys and sorrows. I am eager
to hear if Fortune has not dealt more generously by you than me. This
splendid preparation here"--and she pointed to the dinner-table--"would
seem to say much."

"The story will tell better at table," said I, gayly, and not sorry to
relieve the awkwardness of the moment by any new incident; and with this
I ordered dinner at once. As course succeeded course of the magnificent
repast, I could not help feeling what a singular preface was all this
splendor to the confession that was to follow it, and how oddly would it
tell that the host of such a feast was without a sou in the world. Our
spirits rose as dinner went on. We talked together like old friends
who had met yesterday; we discussed passing topics--all the news of
the day--lightly and amusingly; we jested and laughed, with all the
light-hearted gayety of unburdened spirits; nor can I remember anything
more brilliant than the flow of wit and pleasantry that went on amongst
us.

What strange mysterious link unites our lowest moment of despair with a
wild and almost headlong joyousness, making of the darkness of our souls
a fitting atmosphere for the lightning play of fancy and the bright
coruscations of wit! But an hour back, and never was depression deeper
than my own; and now my brain abounded with bright-hued thoughts and
pleasant imaginings.

It was late when the carriage arrived, and we returned to Paris
to finish the evening at Mademoiselle Mars' lodgings in the Rue de
Choiseul. The little _salons_, furnished with a consummate taste and
elegance, were crowded with visitors, as we reached them,--artists,
authors, musicians, theatrical people of every kind and sort, with
a sprinkling of the higher world, admitted as a rare favor to these
"Saturdays."

It was in the fascination of this very class of society that Margot
had originally conceived her passion for the stage. It was in their
enthusiasm for her genius and their admiration of her beauty she had
first tasted the ambitious longing for fame and applause; and it was
st