above the crinoline.

"'Monsieur,' says she, 'I desire make you know the King Francois.' I
hate lapdogs; but, in order to be civil, I offered to pat his majesty
on the head. That, however, did not seem to be court-etiquette; and I
got snapped at by the little despot. 'Our compagnon of voyage,' says
Mademoiselle, pacifying him with caresses.

"'So, he is going too?' thought I,--so unreasonable as to feel a little
dissatisfied; as if I had a right to say who should or who should not
ride in Madam Waldoborough's carriage.

"Mademoiselle sat with her hat on, and held the pup; and I sat with my
hat in my hand, and held my peace; and she talked bad English to me, and
good French to the dog, for, may be, ten minutes longer, when the
Waldoborough swept in, arrayed for the occasion, and said, '_Maintenant
nous irons_.' That was the signal for descending: as we did so, Madam
casually remarked, that something was the matter with one of the
Waldoborough horses, but that she had not thought it worth the while to
give up our visit to the Gobelins on that account, since a _coupe_ would
answer our purpose;--and the _coupes_ in that quarter were really very
respectable!

"This considerate remark was as a feather-bed to break the frightful
fall before me. You think I tumbled down the Waldoborough stairs? Worse
than that: I dropped headlong, precipitately, from the heights of fairy
dreams to low actuality; all the way down, down, down, from the
Waldoborough barouche to a hired coach, a _voiture de remise_, that
stood in its place at the door!

"'Mademoiselle suggested that it would be quite as well to go in a
_coupe_,' says Mrs. Waldoborough, as she got in.

"'O certainly,' I replied, with preternatural cheerfulness. But I could
have killed the Spider; for I suspected this was a part of the plot she
had been weaving to entangle me.

"It was a vehicle with two horses and seats for four; one driver in a
red face,--the common livery of your Paris hackman; but no footman, no
footman, no footman!" Hubert repeated, with a groan. "Not so much as a
little tiger clinging to the straps behind! I comforted myself, however,
with the reflection that beggars must not be choosers; that, if I rode
with Madam, I must accept her style of turn-out; and that if I was a
good boy, and went in the _coupe_ this time, I might go in the barouche
the next.

"Madam occupied the back seat--the seat of honor in a coach--with whom,
do you suppose? Me? No, sir