ew lines before I lie down to sleep! It is already daybreak. What
would poor Dr. S---- say if he knew I had been sitting up to this hour,
and at a _petit souper_ too, with some half-dozen of the wealthiest
people in Paris, not to speak of the prettiest? Madame de F------
would take no refusal, however, and averred she had made the party
expressly for me; that V------ H------ had declined another engagement
to come; and, in fact--no matter what little flatteries--I went; and
here I am, with my cheek flushed and my head on fire, my brain whirling
with mad excitement, laughter still ringing in my ears, and all the
exaltation he feels who, drinking water while others sip champagne, is
yet the only one whose faculties are intoxicated.

What a brilliant scene in a comedy would that little supper have been,
just as it really was; scenery, decorations, people all unchanged! the
dimly lighted boudoir, where all the luxury of modern requirement was
seen through a chiaroscuro, that made it seem half unreal; and then, the
splendid brilliancy of the supper-room beyond, where, amid the gorgeous
dis-play of _vaisselle_ and flowers, shone still more brightly the blaze
of beauty and the fire of genius.

How often have I remarked in these little "jousts of the table," where
each man puts forth his sharpest weapons of wit and pleasantry, that
the conqueror, like an Ivanhoe, is an unknown knight, and with a blank
shield.

So was it, I remember once, where we had a sprinkling of every class of
celebrity, from the Chamber of Deputies to the Theatre Francais; and yet
the heart of all was taken by a young Spaniard, whom nobody seemed to
know whence or how he came,--a handsome, dark-eyed fellow, with a short
upper lip that seemed alive with energy, combining in his nature the
stern dignity of the Castilian and the hot blood of Andalusia. It was
the Marquis de Brabancon brought him, presenting him to the lady of the
house in a half whisper.

There are men it would be utter ruin to place in positions of staid and
tranquil respectability, and yet who make great names. They are born
to be adventurers. I remained the last, on purpose to hear who he was,
feeling no common curiosity, even though--as so often happens--the name,
when heard, conveys nothing to the ear, and leaves as little for the
memory.

I could not avoid remarking that he bore, in the mild and thoughtful
character of his brow, a strong resemblance to the portraits of
Claverhouse