erson of
rank with whom my family can claim the most distant relationship, we
stick to the cousinship and send her every year cheap presents, which
she reciprocates with still more meretricious _bonbons_. When I was
ushered into her drawing-room, I found her taking afternoon tea with two
old gentlemen, also a mild young man, and a priest. A "Lady of the
Faubourg," who has any pretensions to beauty, but who is of Cornelia's
mood, always has two or three old gentlemen, a mild young man, and a
priest, who drop in to see her almost every afternoon. "Are you come to
congratulate us?" said my cousin, as I entered. I kissed her hand.
"What," she continued, "have you not heard of the victory?" I opened my
eyes. "Madame," said one old gentleman, "alludes to the taking of Choisy
le Roy." I mildly hinted that the news of this important event had not
reached me. "Surprising!" said he, "I saw Vinoy myself yesterday." "It
does not follow," I suggested, "that he has taken Choisy to-day."
"Monsieur, perhaps, is not aware," jeered old gentleman No. 2, "that
60,000 men have broken through the Prussian lines, and have gone to the
relief of Bazaine." "I have not the slightest doubt of the fact; it is
precisely what I expected would occur," I humbly observed. "As for the
victory," struck in the mild young man, "I can vouch for it; I myself
have seen the prisoners." "Surely," added my cousin, "you must have
heard the cannon; ah! you English are all the same; you are all
Prussians, your Queen, your _'Tims'_, and all of you." I took refuge in
a cup of tea. One old gentleman came and stood before me. I knew well
what was coming--the old, old question. "Well, what does England think
of our attitude now?" I said that only one word could properly qualify
it--sublime. "We are sacrificing our lives," said the mild young man. I
looked at him, and I greatly fear that I smiled--"that is to say," he
continued, "we are prepared to sacrifice them." "Monsieur is in the
Garde Nationale?" I asked. "Monsieur is the only son of a widow," put in
my cousin. "But I mean to go to the ramparts for all that," added the
orphan. "You owe yourself to your mother," said the priest--"and to your
country," I suggested, but the observation fell very flat. "It is a
grand sight," observed one old gentleman, as he put a third lump of
sugar in his tea, and another into his pocket, "a glorious spectacle, to
see a population that was supposed to be given up to luxury, subsisting