my intention that my son-in-law shall accompany us to Europe. But,
when she calls my attention more and more to these facts, I feel
that we are moving in a different world. This is more and more the
country of the many; the few find less and less place for them; and
the individual--well, the individual has quite ceased to be
recognised. He is recognised as a voter, but he is not recognised
as a gentleman--still less as a lady. My daughter and I, of course,
can only pretend to constitute a FEW! You know that I have never
for a moment remitted my pretensions as an individual, though, among
the agitations of pension-life, I have sometimes needed all my
energy to uphold them. "Oh, yes, I may be poor," I have had
occasion to say, "I may be unprotected, I may be reserved, I may
occupy a small apartment in the quatrieme, and be unable to scatter
unscrupulous bribes among the domestics; but at least I am a PERSON,
with personal rights." In this country the people have rights, but
the person has none. You would have perceived that if you had come
with me to make arrangements at this establishment. The very fine
lady who condescends to preside over it kept me waiting twenty
minutes, and then came sailing in without a word of apology. I had
sat very silent, with my eyes on the clock; Aurora amused herself
with a false admiration of the room,--a wonderful drawing-room, with
magenta curtains, frescoed walls, and photographs of the landlady's
friends--as if one cared anything about her friends! When this
exalted personage came in, she simply remarked that she had just
been trying on a dress--that it took so long to get a skirt to hang.
"It seems to take very long indeed!" I answered. "But I hope the
skirt is right at last. You might have sent for us to come up and
look at it!" She evidently didn't understand, and when I asked her
to show us her rooms, she handed us over to a negro as degingande as
herself. While we looked at them I heard her sit down to the piano