e of a _viveur_, of a lover of pleasure than
ninety-nine Englishmen out of a hundred, yet he found too much of that
point of view among the men he came across in Paris. From boys to old
gentlemen, from the artists to a certain set among the _haute
finance_--of whom he had some acquaintances--from the sporting young
sprig of the Faubourg to the son of the sham jeweller in the Rue de
Rivoli--all, without a single exception, seemed to think of nothing else
but pleasure, in other words, of _les petites femmes_. For that--paying
attention more or less serious to _les petites femmes_--seemed the one
real idea of pleasure. Of this point of view Nigel certainly grew very
tired, and he marvelled at the wonderful energy, the unflagging interest
in the same eternal subject.

They said, and of course thought, that there was nothing so charming as
a French woman, particularly the Parisienne; but, except on one point,
he was not entirely inclined to agree. This point was their dress. Their
dress was delightful, their fashion was an art, and it had great, real
charm. In whatever walk of life they were placed they were always
exquisitely dressed. Nigel appreciated this sartorial gift, it was an
art he understood and that amused, but weren't they on the whole--also
in every walk of life--a little too much arranged, overdone, too much
_maquillees_; weren't their faces too white, their lips too red, their
hats too new? They knew how to put on their clothes to perfection, but
he was not sure that he didn't prefer these beautiful clothes not quite
so well put on; he thought he liked to see the pretty French dress put
on a little wrong on a pretty Englishwoman; and then he thought of
Bertha, of course. Nowhere in Paris was there anything quite like
Bertha, that pink and white English complexion, that abundant fair hair,
the natural flower-like look.

Of course Bertha was unusually clever, lively and charming; she was not
stiff or prim, she was very exceptional, but distinctly English, and he
admired her more than all the Parisiennes in the world. Besides, he
thought, one got very tired of them. When they _were bourgeoises_ they
were so extremely _bourgeoises_; when they were smart they were so
excessively _snob_. Perhaps it was through having seen a good deal of
them for a little while that he met a compatriot of his with unexpected
gratification.

* * * * *

He was walking with one of his artist friends on