rself by the indulgence. She drew on her
recollections of the Satanic in her bosom when so situated, and never
having admired herself more ardently than when wearing that aspect, she
would have admired the man who had won the frightful title in public,
except for one thing--he was a Jew.

The Jew was to Clotilde as flesh of swine to the Jew. Her parents had
the same abhorrence of Jewry. One of the favourite similes of the family
for whatsoever grunted in grossness, wriggled with meanness, was Jew:
and it was noteworthy from the fact that a streak of the blood was in
the veins of the latest generation and might have been traced on the
maternal side.

Now a meanness that clothes itself in the Satanic to terrify cowards
is the vilest form of impudence venturing at insolence; and an insolent
impudence with Jew features, the Jew nose and lips, is past endurance
repulsive. She dismissed her contemplation of Alvan. Luckily for the
gentleman who had compared her to the Jew politician, she did not meet
him again in Italy.

She had meanwhile formed an idea of the Alvanesque in dialogue; she
summoned her forces to take aim at it, without becoming anything Jewish,
still remaining clean and Christian; and by her astonishing practice
of the art she could at any time blow up a company--scatter mature and
seasoned dames, as had they been balloons on a wind, ay, and give our
stout sex a shaking.

Clotilde rejected another aspirant proposed by her parents, and falling
into disgrace at home, she went to live for some months with an ancient
lady who was her close relative residing in the capital city where the
brain of her race is located. There it occurred that a dashing officer
of social besides military rank, dancing with her at a ball, said, for
a comment on certain boldly independent remarks she had been making: 'I
see you know Alvan.'

Alvan once more.

'Indeed I do not,' she said, for she was addressing an officer high
above Alvan in social rank; and she shrugged, implying that she was
almost past contradiction of the charge.

'Surely you must,' said he; 'where is the lady who could talk and think
as you do without knowing Alvan and sharing his views!'

Clotilde was both startled and nettled.

'But I do not know him at all; I have never met him, never seen him.
I am unlikely to meet the kind of person,' she protested; and she was
amazed yet secretly rejoiced on hearing him, a noble of her own circle,
and a dashing office