hout laughing when he asked me:
"Voulez-vous bien avoir la bonte de passer le sel?" There were present
several from the court: the Marquis de B----, who in private theatricals
at the King's had distinguished himself; M. le Comte de S----, supposed
to be a little _impressionne_ by Mlle. Zoe, the last successful
debutante, and now among the guests.

Mme. Delille looked like a lady born, and did the honors of her house
like one. The servant announced the dinner, and we adjourned to the
dining-room.

The dinner was _on ne peut pas mieux_. I sat between the lady of the
house and Mlle. Zoe. One of the French arts is that of placing people at
ease in society. It is not uncommon to meet persons not wanting in
intelligence, yet who, unless you draw them out, will simply remain in
the whole evening. My charming neighbors drew me out immediately. They
possessed a magnetism which made talking, and in one's best style, as
easy as flying to a bird. Mlle. Zoe said a great many brilliant and
surprising things; but Mme. Delille's manners and conversation were far
superior. I found in her a thoughtful, cultivated, balanced mind,
inspiring genuine esteem. I was struck by her views of political events
and characters. She touched lightly and skilfully upon various
personages with wisdom and humor, but with charity. She referred to her
own position in life as an actress in a way which interested me
extremely, and she found opportunity amid the miscellaneous conversation
to relate her history, and how she came to adopt a profession contrary
to her taste; and a more touching story I never heard. The conversation
even ascended to higher subjects. I was not a little astonished to find
in a young and universally flattered French actress a noble-minded,
superior woman, who had suffered deeply, and thought seriously and
spiritually upon subjects generally considered irreconcileable with her
profession.

The dinner was finished; the nuts and the jokes were cracked; the cafe,
the chasse-cafe, the enigmas, the conundrums, the anecdotes, the songs,
the _tableaux-vivants_ followed each other. My amiable hostess seemed to
think I must have had enough of it, and, with her graceful
acquiescence, I stole out after a confidential pantomimic leave-taking
with her and my host.

I became subsequently well acquainted with Monsieur and Madame Delille,
and have seldom known more interesting persons. Occasionally they
invited me to a quiet family dinner, where