It is too full of pretty nothings to be a place for repose; one scarce
knows where to sit down among carved Chinese work-tables with their
myriads of fantastic figures inlaid in ivory, cups of yellow topaz
mounted on filagree, mosaics which inspire theft, Dutch pictures in
the style which Schinner has adopted, angels such as Steinbock
conceived but often could not execute, statuettes modelled by genius
pursued by creditors (the real explanation of the Arabian myth),
superb sketches by our best artists, lids of chests made into panels
alternating with fluted draperies of Italian silk, portieres hanging
from rods of old oak in tapestried masses on which the figures of some
hunting scene are swarming, pieces of furniture worthy to have
belonged to Madame de Pompadour, Persian rugs, et cetera. For a last
graceful touch, all these elegant things were subdued by the
half-light which filtered through embroidered curtains and added to
their charm. On a table between the windows, among various curiosities,
lay a whip, the handle designed by Mademoiselle de Fauveau, which
proved that the countess rode on horseback.

Such is a lady's boudoir in 1837,--an exhibition of the contents of
many shops, which amuse the eye, as if ennui were the one thing to be
dreaded by the social world of the liveliest and most stirring capital
in Europe. Why is there nothing of an inner life? nothing which leads
to revery, nothing reposeful? Why indeed? Because no one in our day is
sure of the future; we are living our lives like prodigal annuitants.

One morning Clementine appeared to be thinking of something. She was
lying at full length on one of those marvellous couches from which it
is almost impossible to rise, the upholsterer having invented them for
lovers of the "far niente" and its attendant joys of laziness to sink
into. The doors of the greenhouse were open, letting the odors of