“I hope you will not think that I intend writing you
to death; but I cannot let this opportunity pass. Miss
Montgomery leaves Paris to-morrow, and so write I must. I am
quite surprised that I should have so little to tell you; but really I have
nothing, as ill-luck would have it. I went to call on Madame Tastu, from whom I received a charming
note, and while I was out Monsieur Sainte
Beuve and Monsieur Odillon
Barrot called; however, the latter wrote to me offering his
services as cicerone, &c., and I expect him this morning. M. Heine called yesterday; a most pleasant
person. I am afraid he did not think me a personne
bien spirituelle, for you know it takes a long time with
me to get over the shame of speaking to a stranger by way of conversation. He
said, ‘Mademoiselle donc a beaucoup couru les
boutiques?’ ‘Mais
non.’ ‘A-t-elle
été au Jardin des Plantes?’
‘Mais non.’
‘Avez vous été à
l’opéra, aux théatres?’
‘Mais non.’
‘Peut-être Mademoiselle aime la
promenade?’ ‘Mais
non.’ ‘A-t-elle
donc apporté beaucoup de livres, ou peut-être elle
écrit?’ ‘Mais non.’ At last, in seeming despair, he
exclaimed, ‘Mais Mademoiselle, qu’est
que ce donc, qu’elle a fait?’
‘Mais—mais—j’ai regardé par
la fenetre.’ Was there ever anything si bête? but I really could think of
nothing else. I am enchanted with Madame Tastu; her
manners are so kind, so encouraging. I did not feel much embarrassed after the
first. She has fine features, though there was something about her face that
put me in mind of Miss Roberts; but with a softened
expression. If I had known as much of Paris as I do even
| 196 | AN AUTOBIOGRAPHY. |
“I quite dread—though impatient for it—my journey back
again. I shall never make a traveller. I am far too indolent, and do not care
for seeing. My pleasure comes in at my ears. Lady
Kingsmill, too, called the morning I
| L. E. L. | 197 |
“Well, adieu, au révoir.
