to-night? What a charming person he is!"

"Yes," said Boulainvilliers. "He said he should be late; and I expect
Fontenelle, too, but /he/ will not come before supper. I found
Fontenelle this morning conversing with my cook on the best manner of
dressing asparagus. I asked him the other day what writer, ancient or
modern, had ever given him the most sensible pleasure? After a little
pause, the excelient old man said, 'Daphnus.' 'Daphnus!' repeated I,
'who the devil is he?' 'Why,' answered Fontenelle, with tears of
gratitude in his benevolent eyes, 'I had some hypochondriacal ideas that
suppers were unwholesome; and Daphnus is an ancient physician, who
asserts the contrary; and declares,--think, my friend, what a charming
theory!--that the moon is a great assistant of the digestion!'"

"Ha! ha! ha!" laughed the Abbe de Chaulieu. "How like Fontenelle! what
an anomalous creature 'tis! He has the most kindness and the least
feeling of any man I ever knew. Let Hamilton find a pithier description
for him if he can!"

Whatever reply the friend of the /preux Grammont/ might have made was
prevented by the entrance of a young man of about twenty-one.

In person he was tall, slight, and very thin. There was a certain
affectation of polite address in his manner and mien which did not quite
become him; and though he was received by the old wits with great
cordiality, and on a footing of perfect equality, yet the inexpressible
air which denotes birth was both pretended to and wanting. This,
perhaps, was however owing to the ordinary inexperience of youth; which,
if not awkwardly bashful, is generally awkward in its assurance.
Whatever its cause, the impression vanished directly he entered into