all the little political
artifices of her sex so naturally as to exclude all idea of art
or premeditation. If she has a royally beautiful hand, the most
perspicacious beholder will believe that it is absolutely necessary that
she should twist, or refix, or push aside the ringlet or curl she plays
with. If she has some dignity of profile, you will be persuaded that she
is giving irony or grace to what she says to her neighbor, sitting in
such a position as to produce the magical effect of the 'lost profile,'
so dear to great painters, by which the cheek catches the high light,
the nose is shown in clear outline, the nostrils are transparently rosy,
the forehead squarely modeled, the eye has its spangle of fire, but
fixed on space, and the white roundness of the chin is accentuated by
a line of light. If she has a pretty foot, she will throw herself on
a sofa with the coquettish grace of a cat in the sunshine, her feet
outstretched without your feeling that her attitude is anything but the
most charming model ever given to a sculptor by lassitude.

"Only the perfect lady is quite at her ease in full dress; nothing
inconveniences her. You will never see her, like the woman of the
citizen class, pulling up a refractory shoulder-strap, or pushing down a
rebellious whalebone, or looking whether her tucker is doing its office
of faithful guardian to two treasures of dazzling whiteness, or glancing
in the mirrors to see if her head-dress is keeping its place. Her toilet
is always in harmony with her character; she had had time to study
herself, to learn what becomes her, for she has long known what does not
suit her. You will not find her as you go out; she vanishes before the
end of the play. If by chance she is to be seen, calm and stately, on
the stairs, she is experiencing some violent emotion; she has to bestow
a glance, to receive a promise. Perhaps she goes down so slowly on
purpose to gratify the vanity of a slave whom she sometimes obeys. If
your meeting takes place at a ball or an evening party, you will gather
the honey, natural or affected of her insinuating voice; her empty
words will enchant you, and she will know how to give them the value of
thought by her inimitable bearing."

"To be such a woman, is it not necessary to be very clever?" asked the
Polish Count.

"It is necessary to have great taste," replied the Princesse de
Cadignan.

"And in France taste is more than cleverness," said the Russian.

"Thi