nted to see you back from the sea-side!--you and your charming
daughter. I do not know which looks the more young and blooming."

Then, turning to the grim lady in black:--

"And I am charmed to pay my homage to Madame de Montparnasse. I had the
pleasure of being present at the brilliant _debut_ of Madame's gifted
daughter the other evening at the private performance of the pupils of
the Conservatoire. Mademoiselle Honoria inherits the _grand air_,
Madame, from yourself."

Then, to the plump gentleman with the shirt-front:--

"And Monsieur Philomene!--this is indeed a privilege and a pleasure. Bad
weather, Monsieur Philomene, for the voice!"

Then, to the two girls:--

"Mesdemoiselles--Achille Dorinet prostrates himself at the feet of
youth, beauty, and talent! Mademoiselle Honoria, I salute in you the
future Empress of the tragic stage. Mademoiselle Rosalie, modesty
forbids me to extol the acquired graces of even my most promising pupil;
but I may be permitted to adore in you the graces of nature."

While I was listening to these scraps of salutation, Mueller was
murmuring tender nothings in the ear of the fair Marie, and Madame
Marotte was pouring out the coffee.

Monsieur Achille Dorinet, having gone the round of the company, next
addressed himself to me.

"Permit me, Monsieur," he said, bringing his heels together and
punctuating his sentences with little bows, "permit me, in the absence
of a master of the ceremonies, to introduce myself--Achille Dorinet,
Achille Dorinet, whose name may not, perhaps, be wholly unknown to you
in connection with the past glories of the classical ballet. Achille
Dorinet, formerly _premier sujet_ of the Opera Francais--now principal
choreographic professor at the Conservatoire Imperiale de Musique. I
have had the honor, Monsieur, of dancing at Erfurth before their
Imperial Majesties the Emperors Napoleon and Alexander, and a host of
minor sovereigns. Those, Monsieur, were the high and palmy days of the
art. We performed a ballet descriptive of the siege of Troy, and I
undertook the part of a river god--the god Scamander, _en effet_. The
great ladies of the court, Monsieur, were graciously pleased to admire
my proportions as the god Scamander. I wore a girdle of sedges, a wreath
of water-lilies, and a scarf of blue and silver. I have reason to
believe that the costume became me."

"Sir," I replied gravely, "I do not doubt it."

"It is a noble art, Monsieur, _l'art de la dame