young _vauriens_ who figure in the great novelist's comedy of Human Life.
The Vicomte's fashion expired with the Orleanist dynasty.

"Is it possible, my dear Vicomte," answered Graham, "not to be pleased
with a capital so marvellously embellished?"

"Embellished it may be to foreign eyes," said the Vicomte, sighing, "but
not improved to the taste of a Parisian like me. I miss the dear Paris
of old,--the streets associated with my _beaux jours_ are no more. Is
there not something drearily monotonous in those interminable
perspectives? How frightfully the way lengthens before one's eyes! In
the twists and curves of the old Paris one was relieved from the pain of
seeing how far one had to go from one spot to another,--each tortuous
street had a separate idiosyncrasy; what picturesque diversities, what
interesting recollections,--all swept away! _Mon Dieu_! and what for,--
miles of florid _facades_ staring and glaring at one with goggle-eyed
pitiless windows; house-rents trebled, and the consciousness that if you
venture to grumble underground railways, like concealed volcanoes, can
burst forth on you at any moment with an eruption of bayonets and
muskets. This _maudit_ empire seeks to keep its hold on France much as a
_grand seigneur_ seeks to enchain a nymph of the ballet,--tricks her out
in finery and baubles, and insures her infidelity the moment he fails to
satisfy her whims."

"Vicomte," answered Graham, "I have had the honour to know you since I
was a small boy at a preparatory school home for the holidays, and you
were a guest at my father's country-house. You were then _fete_ as one
of the most promising writers among the young men of the day, especially
favoured by the princes of the reigning family. I shall never forget the
impression made on me by your brilliant appearance and your no less