to us.

"We have there only the Carnival," she continued with the winning
prettiness of a child. "That is in the spring, and the young men dress
up for three or four days and throw bon-bons and flowers at us. When the
carnival is over, they present the young ladies with the jewels they
have worn?"

"And the ladies return them smiles more prized than jewels?"

She looked up at me in fresh-natured delight.

"Monsieur, you must come to New Orleans sometime, during the season of
the Carnival."

"I shall most certainly if you will assure me the ladies of New Orleans
are all of one kind."

"You are pleased to jest, sir. But judge from my sister. Is she not
handsome?"

Her sister,--a Southern beauty, the sensation just then of
Montreal,--was truly a noble type. The pretty one watched my rising
admiration.

"What do you think of her?"

"She is wonderful.--And she is your sister?"

"My married sister, Monsieur. She is on her way to France. I will tell
you a little romance about her. Last year she came to Montreal with our
father, and they were delighted with it. She used to say she would not
marry a Frenchman; nor a blonde. Above all she detested Paris, and
declared she would never live there. While she was here she left her
portrait with Mde. De Rheims as a souvenir. Soon a young officer in the
army of France comes out and visits Mde. De Rheims and sees the picture
of my sister. He was struck with it, declared he would see the original,
travelled straight to New Orleans, and has married my sister. See him
there--_he is a blonde_ and _he is taking her to Paris_."

"How strange that is! Montreal is a dangerous place for the ladies of
your family."

She glanced at me with sly pleasure.

"But we are not dangerous to Montreal, sir."

"Ah non, ma'm'selle."

Then this was my first type to begin on, of our French society world.
Were they all like her? I watched the ladies and gentlemen who stood and
sat chatting about, and saw that everyone else too made an art of
charming. Grace also. She frequently passed, and I could catch her
silvery French sentences and cheerful laugh.

As a partner now took away my little Southern friend, I caught Chinic on
the wing, got introduced once more, and found myself careering in a
galop down the room with a large-looking girl--Mlle. Sylphe--whose
activity was out of proportion to her figure, though in more harmony
with her name. Her build was commanding, she was of dark complexion