of the trap, was wholly ignorant of the piece in which he was to play
a part. Gobenheim, by reason of his character, remained in a state of
indifference equal to that displayed by Modeste. To a spectator who
understood the situation, this contrast between the ignorance of some
and the palpitating interest of others would have seemed quite poetic.
Nowadays romance-writers arrange such effects; and it is quite within
their province to do so, for nature in all ages takes the liberty to
be stronger than they. In this instance, as you will see, nature,
social nature, which is a second nature within nature, amused herself
by making truth more interesting than fiction; just as mountain
torrents describe curves which are beyond the skill of painters to
convey, and accomplish giant deeds in displacing or smoothing stones
which are the wonder of architects and sculptors.

It was eight o'clock. At that season twilight was still shedding its
last gleams; there was not a cloud in the sky; the balmy air caressed
the earth, the flowers gave forth their fragrance, the steps of
pedestrians turning homeward sounded along the gravelly road, the sea
shone like a mirror, and there was so little wind that the wax candles
upon the card-tables sent up a steady flame, although the windows were
wide open. This salon, this evening, this dwelling--what a frame for
the portrait of the young girl whom these persons were now studying
with the profound attention of a painter in presence of the Margharita
Doni, one of the glories of the Pitti palace. Modeste,--blossom
enclosed, like that of Catullus,--was she worth all these precautions?

You have seen the cage; behold the bird! Just twenty years of age,
slender and delicate as the sirens which English designers invent for
their "Books of Beauty," Modeste was, like her mother before her, the
captivating embodiment of a grace too little understood in France,