tars; they are a whole constellation, two in fact,--a Great
Bear to their surroundings, a Cross to their husbands. Laura was a
Cross to poor Davis, and is now a Bear in regard to Maleschi. She
would treat me a little in that way, too, if it were not that she is
not familiar with the ways of Parisian society, and considers it safer
to have me for an ally than an enemy. It is very strange, but she
does not create here the same sensation as in Italy, or on the
Mediterranean. She is simply too classical, too beautiful for
Parisians, whose taste is to a certain degree morbid, as appears in
their literature and art; and characteristic ugliness more strongly
excites their blunted nerves than simple beauty. It is a noted fact
that the most celebrated stars of the _demi-monde_ are rather ugly
than beautiful. In regard to Laura, there is another reason for
her non-success with the Parisians. Her intelligence, though very
uncommon, is upon too straight lines, wanting in that kind of dash
so appreciated here. There are thinkers, and deep thinkers, too, in
Paris, but in society those mostly win a reputation whose minds are
nimble enough to cling to any subject, as a monkey to a branch by his
tail or feet, turning head over heel. The more these jumps are sudden
and unexpected, the surer the success. Laura understands this, and at
the same time is conscious that to do this would be as easy for her
as to dance on a rope. She considers me an adept in these kinds of
gymnastics, and consequently wants me.

To increase the attraction of her salon, she has made it into a temple
of music. She herself sings like a siren, and thereby attracts
many people. I meet there often a pianiste, Clara Hilst, a young,
good-looking German girl, very tall of figure, whom one of the
painters here describes thus: "C'est beau, mais c'est deux fois
grandeur naturelle." In spite of her German origin, she has met with
a considerable success. As to myself, I evidently belong to the old
school, for I do not understand the music of the present, which
consists in a great deal of noise and confusion. Listening the last
time to Miss Hilst's playing at Laura's, I thought to myself that if
the piano were a man who had seduced her sister, she could not
belabor him more mercilessly. She also plays on the harmonium. Her
compositions are thought of a great deal here, and considered very
deep; most likely because those who could not understand them, hearing
them for the ten