solute laugh; too beautiful and too
hideous. She personifies Paris, to which, in the long run, she supplies
the toothless portresses, washerwomen, street-sweepers, beggars,
occasionally insolent countesses, admired actresses, applauded singers;
she has even given, in the olden time, two quasi-queens to the monarchy.
Who can grasp such a Proteus? She is all woman, less than woman, more
than woman. From this vast portrait the painter of manners and morals
can take but a feature here and there; the _ensemble_ is infinite.

She was a grisette of Paris; a grisette in all her glory; a grisette
in a hackney-coach,--happy, young, handsome, fresh, but a grisette; a
grisette with claws, scissors, impudent as a Spanish woman, snarling as
a prudish English woman proclaiming her conjugal rights, coquettish as
a great lady, though more frank, and ready for everything; a perfect
_lionne_ in her way; issuing from the little apartment of which she
had dreamed so often, with its red-calico curtains, its Utrecht velvet
furniture, its tea-table, the cabinet of china with painted designs, the
sofa, the little moquette carpet, the alabaster clock and candlesticks
(under glass cases), the yellow bedroom, the eider-down quilt,--in
short, all the domestic joys of a grisette's life; and in addition,
the woman-of-all-work (a former grisette herself, now the owner of a
moustache), theatre-parties, unlimited bonbons, silk dresses, bonnets to
spoil,--in fact, all the felicities coveted by the grisette heart except
a carriage, which only enters her imagination as a marshal's baton into
the dreams of a soldier. Yes, this grisette had all these things in
return for a true affection, or in spite of a true affection, as some
others obtain it for an hour a day,--a sort of tax carelessly paid under
the claws of an old man.

The young woman who now entered the presence of Monsieur and Madame
Jules had a pair of feet so little covered by her shoes that only a slim
black line was visible between the carpet and her white stockings. This
peculiar foot-gear, which Parisian caricaturists have well-rendered,
is a special attribute of the grisette of Paris; but she is even more
distinctive to the eyes of an observer by the care with which her
garments are made to adhere to her form, which they clearly define.
On this occasion she was trigly dressed in a green gown, with a white
chemisette, which allowed the beauty of her bust to be seen; her shawl,
of Ternaux cash