I know that she dislikes me; and I suspect I owe the honour of being admitted to appear in her presence solely to her determination that I should hear everything that she thinks it would be disagreeable for me to listen to. I believe she fancies that I do not like to meet Americans; but she is as much mistaken in this as in most other of her speculations.
I really never saw or heard of any fanaticism equal to that, with which this lady worships destruction. That whatever is, is wrong, is the rule by which her judgment is guided in all things. It is enough for her that a law on any point is established, to render the thing legalised detestable; and were the republic about which she raves, and of which she knows as much as her lap-dog, to be established throughout France to-morrow, I am quite persuaded that we should have her embroidering a regal robe for the most legitimate king she could find, before next Monday.
Madame F——'s remarkables are almost all of them foreigners of the philosophic revolutionary class; any gentry that are not particularly well off at home, and who would rather prefer being remarkable and remarked a few hundred miles from their own country than in it.
Madame G——'s are chiefly musical personages. "Croyez-moi, madame," she says, "il n'y a que lui pour toucher le piano.... Vous n'avez pas encore entendu Mademoiselle Z——.... Quelle voix superbe!... Elle fera, j'en suis sûre, une fortune immense à Londres."
Madame H——'s acquaintance are not so "remarkable" for anything peculiar in each or any of them, as for being in all things exactly opposed to each other. She likes to have her parties described as "Les soirées antithestiques de Madame H——," and has a peculiar sort of pleasure in seeing people sitting side by side on her hearth-rug, who would be very likely to salute each other with a pistol-shot were they to meet elsewhere. It is rather a singular device for arranging a sociable party; but her soirées are very delightful soirées, for all that.
Madame J——'s friends are not "remarkable;" they are "distinguished." It is quite extraordinary what a number of distinguished individuals I have met at her house.
But I must not go through the whole alphabet, lest I should tire you. So let me return to the point from whence I set out, and take you with me to Madame de V——'s soirée. A large party is almost always a sort of lottery, and your good or bad fortune depends on the accidental vicinity of pleasant or unpleasant neighbours.
I cannot consider myself to have gained a prize last night; and Fortune, if she means to make things even, must place me to-night next the most agreeable person in Paris. I really think that should the same evil chance that beset me yesterday pursue me for a week, I should leave the country to escape from it. I will describe to you the manner of my torment as well as I can, but must fail, I think, to give you an adequate idea of it.
A lady I had never seen before walked across the room to me last night soon after I entered it, and making prisoner of Madame de V—— in the way, was presented to me in due form. I was placed on a sofa by an old gentleman with whom we have formed a great friendship, and for whose conversation I have a particular liking: he had just seated himself beside me, when my new acquaintance dislodged him by saying, as she attempted to squeeze herself in between us, "Pardon, monsieur; ne vous dérangez pas! ... mais si madame voulait bien me permettre" ... and before she could finish her speech, my old acquaintance was far away and my new one close beside me.
She began the conversation by some very obliging assurances of her wish to make my acquaintance. "I want to discuss with you," said she. I bowed, but trembled inwardly, for I do not like discussions, especially with "remarkable" ladies. "Yes," she continued, "I want to discuss with you many topics of vital interest to us all—topics on which I believe we now think differently, but on which I feel quite sure that we should agree, would you but listen to me."