seven o'clock, which, when the above name is taken up by the earlier
enterprise, is styled supper.

The dejeuner, or dinner, at the Hotel des Ambassadeurs, on the
morning in question, though very elaborate, was not a very gay
affair. There were some fourteen persons present, of whom half were
residents in the town, men employed in some official capacity, who
found this to be the cheapest, the most luxurious, and to them the
most comfortable mode of living. They clustered together at the
head of the table, and as they were customary guests at the house,
they talked their little talk together--it was very little--and made
the most of the good things before them. Then there were two or
three commis-voyageurs, a chance traveller or two, and an English
lady with a young daughter. The English lady sat next to one of the
accustomed guests; but he, unlike the others, held converse with her
rather than with them. Our story at present has reference only to
that lady and to that gentleman.

Place aux dames. We will speak first of the lady, whose name was
Mrs. Thompson. She was, shall I say, a young woman of about thirty-
six. In so saying, I am perhaps creating a prejudice against her in
the minds of some readers, as they will, not unnaturally, suppose
her, after such an announcement, to be in truth over forty. Any
such prejudice will be unjust. I would have it believed that
thirty-six was the outside, not the inside of her age. She was
good-looking, lady-like, and considering that she was an
Englishwoman, fairly well dressed. She was inclined to be rather
full in her person, but perhaps not more so than is becoming to
ladies at her time of life. She had rings on her fingers and a
brooch on her bosom which were of some value, and on the back of her