But my French neighbors occupied my entire attention, which gave me the chance to remember this delightful colloquy between the lady composer and the diplomat.
The Gentleman.—"So you are ever the child of the Muses, a new Orphea?"
The Lady.—"Isn't music the consolation of souls in distress?"
The Gentleman (insinuatingly).—"Do you not find that love is stronger than sounds in banishing heart pain?"
The Lady.—"Yesterday, I was consoled by writing the music to 'The Broken Vase.'"
The Gentleman (poetically).—"A nocturne, no doubt...."
I heard muffled laughter. The conversation took a new turn.
After dinner we went into the drawing room for music. I was doing my best to obliterate myself when two ladies dressed in black, one young, the other older, came in.
The master of the house hastened to greet them and I was presented to them almost at once.
The younger was extraordinarily lovely; the other was her mother, also beautiful, with that thoroughly American beauty which the Starry Republic often sends to us.