I assured her that she was quite right, and that nothing in the whole Jardin des Plantes could amuse me better.
"Ah ça!" she rejoined, laughing; "voilà ce que c'est d'être raisonnable. Mais regardez ce beau garçon leaning against the chimneypiece. He is one of les fidèles sans tache. Is he not handsome? I have him at all my parties; and even the ministers' ladies declare that he is perfectly charming."
"And that little odd-looking man in black," said I, "who is he?... What a contrast!"
"N'est-ce pas? Do they not group well together? That is just the sort of thing I like—it amuses everybody: besides, I assure you, he is a very remarkable person,—in short, it is M——, the celebrated atheist. He writes for the ——. But the Institute won't have him: however, he is excessively talked of—and that is everything.... Then I have two peers, both of them highly distinguished. There is M. de ——, who, you know, is King Philippe's right hand; and the gentleman sitting down just behind him is the dear old Duc de ——, who lived ages in exile with Louis Dix-huit.... That person almost at your elbow, talking to the lady in blue, is the Comte de P——, a most exemplary Catholic, who always followed Charles Dix in all religious processions. He was half distracted, poor man! at the last revolution; but they say he is going to dine with King Philippe next week: I long to ask him if it is true, but I am afraid, for fear he should be obliged to answer 'Yes;'—that would be so embarrassing!... Oh, by the way, that is a peer that you are looking at now;—he has refused to sit on the trial.... Now, have I not done l'impossible for you?"
I thanked her gratefully, and as I knew I could not please her better than by showing the interest I took in her menagerie, I inquired the name of a lady who was talking with a good deal of vehemence at the opposite side of the room.
"Oh! that's a person that I always call my 'dame de l'Empire.' Her husband was one of Napoleon's creations; and Josephine used to amuse herself without ceasing by making her talk—her language and accent are impayables!"
"And that pretty woman in the corner?"
"Ah! ... she is charming!... It is Madame V——, daughter of the celebrated Vicomte de ——, so devoted, you know, to the royal cause. But she is lately married to one of the present ministers—quite a love-match; which is an innovation, by the way, more hard to pardon in France than the introduction of a new dynasty. Mais c'est égal—they are all very good friends again.... Now, tell me whom I shall introduce to you?"
I selected the heroine of the love-match; who was not only one of the prettiest creatures I ever saw, but so lively, intelligent, and agreeable, that I have seldom passed a pleasanter hour than that which followed the introduction. The whole of this heterogeneous party seemed to mix together with the greatest harmony; the only cold glance I saw given being from the gentleman designated as "King Philippe's right hand," towards the tall republican deputy of whose funeral my friend had predicted such honours. The dame de l'Empire was indulging in a lively flirtation with one of the peers sans tache; and I saw the fingers of the exemplary Catholic, who was going to dine with King Philippe, in the tabatière of the celebrated atheist. I then remembered that this was one of the soirées antithestiques so much in fashion.