in the drawing-room; she began to sing an air from a comic opera. I
began to fear we had gone quite astray; I didn't know in what house
we could be, and was only reassured by seeing a Bible in every room.
When we came down our musical hostess expressed no hope that the
rooms had pleased us, and seemed quite indifferent to our taking
them. She would not consent, moreover, to the least diminution, and
was inflexible, as I told you, on the subject of wine. When I
pushed this point, she was so good as to observe that she didn't
keep a cabaret. One is not in the least considered; there is no
respect for one's privacy, for one's preferences, for one's
reserves. The familiarity is without limits, and I have already
made a dozen acquaintances, of whom I know, and wish to know,
nothing. Aurora tells me that she is the "belle of the boarding-
house." It appears that this is a great distinction. It brings me
back to my poor child and her prospects. She takes a very critical
view of them herself: she tells me that I have given her a false
education, and that no one will marry her today. No American will
marry her, because she is too much of a foreigner, and no foreigner
will marry her because she is too much of an American. I remind her
that scarcely a day passes that a foreigner, usually of distinction,
doesn't select an American bride, and she answers me that in these
cases the young lady is not married for her fine eyes. Not always,
I reply; and then she declares that she would marry no foreigner who
should not be one of the first of the first. You will say,
doubtless, that she should content herself with advantages that have
not been deemed insufficient for Cecile; but I will not repeat to
you the remark she made when I once made use of this argument. You
will doubtless be surprised to hear that I have ceased to argue; but
it is time I should tell you that I have at last agreed to let her
act for herself. She is to live for three months a l'Americaine,