cannot
you give me the pleasure of greeting so near a relative of my dear,
delightful Louise?'

"Of course, I would afford her that pleasure! 'O, what a thing it is,' I
said to myself, 'to be a third cousin to a Todworth!' But the two
o'clock in the morning,--how should I manage that? I had not supposed
that fashionable people in Paris got up so early, much less received
visitors at that wonderful hour. But, on reflection, I concluded that
two in the morning meant two in the afternoon; for I had heard that the
great folks commenced their day at about that time.

"At two o'clock, accordingly, the next afternoon,--excuse me, O ye
fashionable ones! I mean the next morning,--I sallied forth from my
little barren room in the Rue des Vieux Augustins, and proceeded to
Madam's ancient palace in the Rue St. Martin, dressed in my best, and
palpitating with a sense of the honor I was doing myself. This time the
_concierge_ smiled encouragingly, and ascertained for me that Madam
_was_ at home. I ascended the polished marble staircase to a saloon on
the first floor, where I was requested to have the _obligeance
d'attendre un petit moment_, until Madam should be informed of my
arrival.

"It was a very large, and, I must admit, a very respectable saloon,
although not exactly what I had expected to see at the very summit of
the social Olympus. I dropped into a fauteuil near a centre-table, on
which there was a fantastical silver-wrought card-basket. What struck me
particularly about the basket was a well-known little Todworth envelope,
superscribed in the delicate handwriting of my aristocratic cousin,--my
letter of introduction, in fact,--displayed upon the very top of the
pile of billets and cards. My own card I did not see; but in looking for
it I discovered some curious specimens of foreign orthography,--one
dainty little note to '_Madame Valtobureau_'; another laboriously
addressed to '_M. et Mme. Jean Val-d'eau-Berot_'; and still a third, in
which the name was conscientiously and industriously written out,
'_Oualdobeurreaux_. This last, as an instance of spelling an English
word _a la Francaise_, I thought a remarkable success, and very
creditable to people who speak of _Lor Berong_, meaning Lord Byron,
(_Be-wrong_ is good!) and talk glibly about _Frongclang_, and
_Vashangtong_, meaning the great philosopher, and the Father of his
Country.

"I was trying to amuse myself with these orthographical curiosities, yet
waiting an