asked the conductor of the baths, without appearing to be much
concerned, the name of this gentleman. I laughed inwardly a little at
this reader of rhymes: he seemed behind the age, for a man. This person,
I thought, must be a simpleton. Well, Aunt, I am now infatuated about
this stranger. Just fancy, his name is Sully Prudhomme! I turned round
to look at him at my ease, just where I sat. His face possesses the two
qualities of calmness and elegance. As somebody came to look for him, I
was able to hear his voice, which is sweet and almost timid. He would
certainly not tell obscene stories aloud in public, or knock against
ladies without apologizing. He is sure to be a man of refinement, but
his refinement is of an almost morbid, vibrating character. I will try
this winter to get an introduction to him.

I have no more news to tell you, my dear Aunt, and I must interrupt this
letter in haste, as the post-hour is near. I kiss your hands and your
cheeks.

Your devoted niece,

BERTHE DE X.

P.S.--I should add, however, by way of justification of French
politeness, that our fellow-countrymen are, when traveling, models of
good manners in comparison with the abominable English, who seem to have
been brought up by stable-boys, so much do they take care not to
incommode themselves in any way, while they always incommode their
neighbors.


MADAME DE L. TO MADAME DE X.