d what I should like to call the breeze of a Parisienne? You may
recognize over her arms, round her waist, about her throat, a science of
drapery recalling the antique Mnemosyne.

"Oh! how thoroughly she understands the _cut_ of her gait--forgive the
expression. Study the way she puts her foot forward moulding her
skirt with such a decent preciseness that the passer-by is filled with
admiration, mingled with desire, but subdued by deep respect. When an
Englishwoman attempts this step, she looks like a grenadier marching
forward to attack a redoubt. The women of Paris have a genius for
walking. The municipality really owed them asphalt footwalks.

"Our Unknown jostles no one. If she wants to pass, she waits with
proud humility till some one makes way. The distinction peculiar to
a well-bred woman betrays itself, especially in the way she holds her
shawl or cloak crossed over her bosom. Even as she walks she has a
little air of serene dignity, like Raphael's Madonnas in their frames.
Her aspect, at once quiet and disdainful, makes the most insolent dandy
step aside for her.

"Her bonnet, remarkable for its simplicity, is trimmed with crisp
ribbons; there may be flowers in it, but the cleverest of such women
wear only bows. Feathers demand a carriage; flowers are too showy.
Beneath it you see the fresh unworn face of a woman who, without
conceit, is sure of herself; who looks at nothing, and sees everything;
whose vanity, satiated by being constantly gratified, stamps her face
with an indifference which piques your curiosity. She knows that she is
looked at, she knows that everybody, even women, turn round to see her
again. And she threads her way through Paris like a gossamer, spotless
and pure.

"This delightful species affects the hottest latitudes, the cleanest
longitudes of Paris; you will meet her between the 10th and 110th Arcade
of the Rue de Rivoli; along the line of the Boulevards from the equator
of the Passage des Panoramas, where the products of India flourish,
where the warmest creations of industry are displayed, to the Cape of
the Madeleine; in the least muddy districts of the citizen quarters,
between No. 30 and No. 130 of the Rue du Faubourg Saint-Honore. During
the winter, she haunts the terrace of the Feuillants, but not the
asphalt pavement that lies parallel. According to the weather, she may
be seen flying in the Avenue of the Champs-Elysees, which is bounded on
the east by the Place Louis XV., o