wonder if it's fun to see one's name printed in a paper?"

And while addressing this question to herself, she turned the page, and
continued reading:

--_the lively Baroness of Myrvoix, etc. We have to announce the
appearance of a new star which has abruptly burst forth in the
Parisian constellation. The house was in ecstasy over a strange and
disturbing blonde, whose dark steel eyes, and whose shoulders--ah,
what shoulders! The shoulders were the event of the evening. From
all quarters one heard asked, "Who is she?" "Who is she?" "To whom
do those divine shoulders belong?" "To whom?" We know, and our
readers will doubtless thank us for telling them the name of this
ideal wonder. It is Mme. Derline._

Her name! She had read her name! She was dazzled. Her eyes clouded. All
the letters in the alphabet began to dance wildly on the paper. Then
they calmed down, stopped, and regained their places. She was able to
find her name, and continue reading;

_It is Mme. Derline, the wife of one of the most agreeable and
richest lawyers in Paris. The Prince of Nerins, whose word has so
much weight in such matters, said yesterday evening to every one who
would listen, "She is the most beautiful woman in Paris." We are
absolutely of that opinion._

A single paragraph, and that was all. It was enough, it was too much!
Mme Derline was seized with a feeling of undefinable confusion. It was
a combination of fear and pleasure, of joy and trouble, of satisfied
vanity and wounded modesty. Her dressing-gown was a little open; she
folded it over with a sort of violence, and crossed it upon, her feet,
abruptly drawn back towards the arm-chair. She had a feeling of nudity.
It seemed to her that all Paris was there, in her room, and that the
Prince de Nerins was in front saying to all Paris, "Look, look! She is
the most beautiful woman in Paris."

The Prince of Nerins! She knew the name well, for she read with keen
interest in the papers all the articles entitled "_Parisian Life_,"
"_High Life_," "_Society Echoes_," etc.; and all the society columns
signed "_Mousseline_," "_Fanfreluche_," "_Brimborion_," "_Veloutine_";
all the accounts of great marriages, great balls, of great comings out,
and of great charity sales. The name of the prince often figured in
these articles, and he was always quoted as supreme arbiter of Parisian
elegances.

And it was he who had declared--ah!--decidedl