the most accurate types of the mode.

The appearance of a youth in the simple uniform of the Polytechnique, in
such a place, seemed to excite universal astonishment. Such a phenomenon
apparently had never been witnessed before; and as they turned fully
round to stare at me, it was clear they never deemed that any mark
of rudeness could be felt by one so humble as I was. Monsieur Crillac
himself, who was sipping his glass of _eau sucree_, with one arm
leaning on the chimney-piece, never deigned to pay me other attention
than a half-smile, as, with a voice of most patronizing softness, he
lisped out,--

"What can we do for you here, Monsieur?"

Apparently the answer to this question was a matter of interest to the
party, who suddenly ceased talking to listen.

"I wish to order a uniform," said I, summoning up all my resolution not
to seem abashed. "This is a tailor's, if I don't mistake?"

"Monsieur is quite correct," replied the imperturbable proprietor,
whose self-satisfied smile became still more insulting, "but perhaps not
exactly what you seek for. Gentlemen who wear your cloth seldom visit
us."

"No, Crillac," interrupted one of the bystanders; "I never heard that
you advertised yourself as fashioner to the Polytechnique, or tailor in
ordinary to the corps of Pompiers."

"You are insolent, sir!" said I, turning fiercely round upon the
speaker. The words were scarce spoken, when the party sprang to
their legs,--some endeavoring to restrain the temper of the young man
addressed; others, pressing around, called on me to apologize on the
spot for what I had said.

"No, no; let us have his name,--his name," said three or four in a
breath. "De Beauvais will take the punishment into his own hands."

"Be advised, young gentleman; unsay your words, and go your way," said
an elder one of the party; while he added in a whisper, "De Beauvais has
no equal in Paris with the small sword."

"There is my address," said I, seizing a pen, and writing on a piece of
paper before me.

"Ha!" said De Beauvais, as he threw his eye on the writing; "he has
got his grade, it seems: all the better that,--I half shrunk from the
ridicule of an affair with a cadet. So you are serious about this?"

"Sir!" said I, all my efforts being barely enough to repress my rising
passion.

"Well, well! enough about it. To-morrow morning; the Bois de Boulogne;
the rapier. You understand me, I suppose?"

I nodded, and was about to leave the pl