full of--"

"Well," said Madame, "and what is taking place upon the earth?"

"That question must be asked of the Dryads," replied the comte; "the
Dryads inhabit the forest, as your royal highness is aware."

"I am aware also, that they are naturally very talkative, Monsieur de
Saint-Aignan."

"Such is the case, Madame; but when they say such delightful things, it
would be ungracious to accuse them of being too talkative."

"Do they talk so delightfully, then?" inquired the princess,
indifferently. "Really, Monsieur de Saint-Aignan, you excite my
curiosity; and, if I were the king, I would require you immediately to
tell us what the delightful things are these Dryads have been saying,
since you alone seem to understand their language."

"I am at his majesty's orders, Madame, in that respect," replied the
comte, quickly.

"What a fortunate fellow this Saint-Aignan is to understand the language
of the Dryads," said Monsieur.

"I understand it perfectly, monseigneur, as I do my own language."

"Tell us all about them, then," said Madame.

The king felt embarrassed, for his confidant was, in all probability,
about to embark in a difficult matter. He felt that it would be so, from
the general attention excited by Saint-Aignan's preamble, and aroused
too by Madame's peculiar manner. The most reserved of those who were
present seemed ready to devour every syllable the comte was about to
pronounce. They coughed, drew closer together, looked curiously at some
of the maids of honor, who, in order to support with greater propriety,
or with more steadiness, the fixity of the inquisitorial looks bent
upon them, adjusted their fans accordingly, and assumed the bearing of a
duelist about to be exposed to his adversary's fire. At this epoch,
the fashion of ingeniously constructed conversations, and hazardously
dangerous recitals, so prevailed, that, where, in modern times, a whole
company assembled in a drawing-room would begin to suspect some scandal,
or disclosure, or tragic event, and would hurry away in dismay, Madame's
guests quietly settled themselves in their places, in order not to lose
a word or gesture of the comedy composed by Monsieur de Saint-Aignan for
their benefit, and the termination of which, whatever the style and
the plot might be, must, as a matter of course, be marked by the most
perfect propriety. The comte as known as a man of extreme refinement,
and an admirable narrator. He courageously began, then,