a man loves he becomes eminently stupid," said the
marquise.

"Between every act he would slip into the corridor," continued the
princess, smiling at her friend's epigrammatic remark. "Once or twice,
either to see me or to make me see him, he looked through the glass
sash of the box exactly opposite to mine. If I received a visit, I was
certain to see him in the corridor close to my door, casting a furtive
glance upon me. He had apparently learned to know the persons belonging
to my circle; and he followed them when he saw them turning in the
direction of my box, in order to obtain the benefit of the opening door.
I also found my mysterious adorer at the Italian opera-house; there he
had a stall directly opposite to my box, where he could gaze at me in
naive ecstasy--oh! it was pretty! On leaving either house I always found
him planted in the lobby, motionless; he was elbowed and jostled, but
he never moved. His eyes grew less brilliant if he saw me on the arm of
some favorite. But not a word, not a letter, no demonstration. You must
acknowledge that was in good taste. Sometimes, on getting home late
at night, I found him sitting upon one of the stone posts of the
porte-cochere. This lover of mine had very handsome eyes, a long, thick,
fan-shaped beard, with a moustache and side-whiskers; nothing could be
seen of his skin but his white cheek-bones, and a noble forehead; it was
truly an antique head. The prince, as you know, defended the Tuileries
on the riverside, during the July days. He returned to Saint-Cloud that
night, when all was lost, and said to me: 'I came near being killed at
four o'clock. I was aimed at by one of the insurgents, when a young
man, with a long beard, whom I have often seen at the opera, and who was
leading the attack, threw up the man's gun, and saved me.' So my adorer
was evidently a republican! In 1831, after I came to lodge in this
house, I found him, one day, leaning with his back against the wall of
it; he seemed pleased with my disasters; possibly he may have thought
they drew us nearer together. But after the affair of Saint-Merri I
saw him no more; he was killed there. The evening before the funeral of
General Lamarque, I had gone out on foot with my son, and my republican
accompanied us, sometimes behind, sometimes in front, from the Madeleine
to the Passage des Panoramas, where I was going."

"Is that all?" asked the marquise.

"Yes, all," replied the princess. "Except that on the