Touches had sacrificed one of those days of perfect freedom, which are
not always to be had in Paris by those on whom the world has its eye.

Now, the meeting being accounted for, it is easy to understand that
etiquette had been banished, as well as a great many women even of the
highest rank, who were curious to know whether Camille Maupin's manly
talent impaired her grace as a pretty woman, and to see, in a word,
whether the trousers showed below her petticoats. After dinner till
nine o'clock, when a collation was served, though the conversation had
been gay and grave by turns, and constantly enlivened by Leon de
Lora's sallies--for he is considered the most roguish wit of Paris
to-day--and by the good taste which will surprise no one after the
list of guests, literature had scarcely been mentioned. However, the
butterfly flittings of this French tilting match were certain to come
to it, were it only to flutter over this essentially French subject.
But before coming to the turn in the conversation which led the
Consul-General to speak, it will not be out of place to give some
account of him and his family.

This diplomate, a man of four-and-thirty, who had been married about
six years, was the living portrait of Lord Byron. The familiarity of
that face makes a description of the Consul's unnecessary. It may,
however, be noted that there was no affectation in his dreamy
expression. Lord Byron was a poet, and the Consul was poetical; women
know and recognize the difference, which explains without justifying
some of their attachments. His handsome face, thrown into relief by a
delightful nature, had captivated a Genoese heiress. A Genoese
heiress! the expression might raise a smile at Genoa, where, in
consequence of the inability of daughters to inherit, a woman is
rarely rich; but Onorina Pedrotti, the only child of a banker without