s woman's cleverness is the triumph of a purely plastic art,"
Blondet went on. "You will not know what she said, but you will be
fascinated. She will toss her head, or gently shrug her white shoulders;
she will gild an insignificant speech with a charming pout and smile; or
throw a Voltairean epigram into an 'Indeed!' an 'Ah!' a 'What then!'
A jerk of her head will be her most pertinent form of questioning; she
will give meaning to the movement by which she twirls a vinaigrette
hanging to her finger by a ring. She gets an artificial grandeur out
of superlative trivialities; she simply drops her hand impressively,
letting it fall over the arm of her chair as dewdrops hang on the cup of
a flower, and all is said--she has pronounced judgment beyond appeal, to
the apprehension of the most obtuse. She knows how to listen to you;
she gives you the opportunity of shining, and--I ask your modesty--those
moments are rare?"

The candid simplicity of the young Pole, to whom Blondet spoke, made all
the party shout with laughter.

"Now, you will not talk for half-an-hour with a _bourgeoise_ without
her alluding to her husband in one way or another," Blondet went on
with unperturbed gravity; "whereas, even if you know that your lady
is married, she will have the delicacy to conceal her husband so
effectually that it will need the enterprise of Christopher Columbus to
discover him. Often you will fail in the attempt single-handed. If you
have had no opportunity of inquiring, towards the end of the evening you
detect her gazing fixedly at a middle-aged man wearing a decoration, who
bows and goes out. She has ordered her carriage, and goes.

"You are not the rose, but you have been with the rose, and you go
to bed under the golden canopy of a delicious dream, which will last
perhaps after Sleep, with his heavy finger, has opened the ivory gates
of the temple of dreams.

"The lady, when she is at home, sees no one before four; she is shrewd
enough always to keep you waiting. In her house you will find everything
in good taste; her luxury is for hourly use, and duly renewed; you will
see nothing under glass shades, no rags of wrappings hanging about, and
looking like a pantry. You will find the staircase warmed. Flowers on
all sides will charm your sight--flowers, the only gift she accepts, and
those only from certain people, for nosegays live but a day; they give
pleasure, and must be replaced; to her they are, as in the East, a
symb