" he repeated, as though he had
struck a chord that vibrated in his memory.

Arriving at the theater, he was surprised at the scene of animation;
the line of carriages; the crowd about the doors and in the entrance
hall! Evidently the city eagerly sought novelty, and Barnes' company,
offering new diversion after many weeks of opera, drew a fair
proportion of pleasure-seekers to the portals of the drama. The noise
of rattling wheels and the banging of carriage doors; the aspect of
many fair ladies, irreproachably gowned; the confusion of voices from
venders hovering near the gallery entrance--imparted a cosmopolitan
atmosphere to the surroundings.

"You'd think some well-known player was going to appear, Francois!"
grumbled the marquis, as he thrust his head out of his carriage.
"Looks like a theater off the Strand! And there's an orange-girl! A
dusky Peggy!"

The vehicle of the nobleman drew up before the brilliantly-lighted
entrance. Mincingly, the marquis dismounted, assisted by the valet;
within he was met by a _loge_ director who, with the airs of a
Chesterfield, bowed the people in and out.

"Your ticket, sir!" said this courteous individual, scraping unusually
low.

The marquis waved his hand toward his man, and Francois produced the
bits of pasteboard. Escorted to his box, the nobleman settled himself
in an easy chair, after which he stared impudently and inquisitively
around him.

And what a heterogeneous assemblage it was; of how many nationalities
made up; gay bachelors, representatives of the western trade and
eastern manufacturers; a fair sprinkling of the military element,
seeking amusement before departing for the front, their brass buttons
and striking new uniforms a grim reminder of the conflict waging
between the United States and Mexico; cotton brokers, banking agents,
sugar, tobacco and flour dealers; some evidently English with their
rosy complexions, and others French by their gesticulations! And among
the women, dashing belles from Saratoga, proud beauties from
Louisville, "milliner-martyred" daughters of interior planters, and
handsome creole matrons, in black gowns that set off their white
shoulders!

In this stately assemblage--to particularize for a moment!--was seated
the (erstwhile!) saintly Madame Etalage, still proud in her bearing,
although white as an angel, and by her side, her carpet knight, an
extravagant, preposterous fop. A few seats in front of her prattled
the lovely _in