_Chausée d' Antin_ to the _Rue de Lille_. At that time--it was in
1836--the race of _feuilletonists_ and journalists, which now swarms
everywhere, numerous as the ants one sees when a hole is made in an
ant-hill, had not yet succeeded in multiplying in numbers. Still,
there used to appear in Varvara Pavlovna's drawing-room a certain M.
Jules, a gentleman who bore a very bad character, whose appearance
was unprepossessing, and whose manner was at once insolent and
cringing--like that of all duellists and people who have been
horsewhipped. Varvara disliked this M. Jules very much; but she
received him because he wrote in several newspapers, and used to be
constantly mentioning her, calling her sometimes Madame de L ... tski,
sometimes Madame de * * *, _cette grande dame Russe si distinguée, qui
demeure rue de P----_, and describing to the whole world, that is to
say to some few hundreds of subscribers, who had nothing whatever to
do with Madame de L ... tski, how loveable and charming was that lady,
_une vraie française par l'esprit_,--the French have no higher
praise than this,--what an extraordinary musician she was, and how
wonderfully she waltzed. (Varvara Pavlovna did really waltz so as to
allure all hearts to the skirt of her light, floating robe.) In fact,
he spread her fame abroad throughout the world; and this we know,
whatever people may say, is pleasant.

Mademoiselle Mars had by that time quitted the stage, and Mademoiselle
Rachel had not yet appeared there; but for all that Varvara Pavlovna
none the less assiduously attended the theatres. She went into
raptures about Italian music, and laughed over the ruins of Odry,
yawned in a becoming manner at the legitimate drama, and cried at the
sight of Madame Dorval's acting in some ultra-melodramatic piece.
Above all, Liszt played at her house twice, and was so gracious, so
unaffected! It was charming!