e are in the age of the _juste-milieu_; and this is
appropriate enough. The _brodequin_ is in its right place half-way
between shoes and boots. These ill-dressed men are surrounded by women
blazing in jewels and diamonds, coronets and diadems. It is impossible
to believe that such differently dressed beings can be of the same
country and station in society; and yet they are all talking and
chirping together: and what conversation! what a conflict of subjects!
what an inexplicable picture of forethought and thoughtlessness! or
rather of apathy!

'"And do you also believe in a revolution, M. de P----?" inquires a
charming princess, spreading out her fan.

'"Certainly, madame; and I hope we shall have one sooner than some may
think."

'"What! monsieur--you make me tremble."

'"Can you, then, be afraid of a revolution which will bring about what
you wish for?"

'"No; but we shall have some cruel moments to pass through."

'"Some may; but not everybody."

'"Bah! revolutions make no selection; and then, when once the scaffold
is set up"----

'"How fast you travel, madame: in our day we shall never bear with
scaffolds. The days of Terror will never return!"

'"I think with M. de P----," chimes in a young dandy, playing with a
Chinese ape on the table: "I rather look for civil war."

'"I do not expect it; we have not energy enough for a civil war." ...

'"But you will have household assassinations, probably, if that will
be any comfort."

'"And then, the pillage of Paris!"

'"Pillage!"

'"Certainly." And every one cries:

'"Oh, well, if there is pillage, I will be in it."

'"I shall come to your house, madame," says one. "I shall carry away
this beautiful vase."

'"And I, the plate."

'"And I, the charming portrait."

'"I have no fixed idea yet. I shall come to your house to-morrow,
madame, to choose," &c.

'"All this will be very amusing; and yet, when the day comes, I shall
not be sorry to be in Italy."

'"Well, let us set out, then."

'"Not yet, but soon. I will warn you when it is best to go." And so
they talk on of all these horrible things, half buried under canopies
of _lampas_, surrounded by flowers, by the light of thousands of
wax-candles burning in golden lustres; and these women, who foresee
such great catastrophes--tragical events, which may divide them from
all they love, from parents, from friends--have beautiful dresses,
with trimmings from England, and make the prettiest little ge