allery became a scene of confusion. The musicians ceased playing, and
began to chatter; the pages dashed about to remove the service, and
everybody was in motion. Observing that your ---- was standing undecided
what to do, I walked into the railed area, brushed past the gorgeous
state table, and gave her my arm. She laughed, and said it had all been
very magnificent and amusing, but that some one had stolen her shawl! A
few years before, I had purchased for her a merino shawl, of singular
fineness, simplicity, and beauty. It was now old, and she had worn it on
this occasion, because she distrusted the dirt of a palace; and laying
it carelessly by her side, in the course of the evening she had found in
its place a very common thing of the same colour. The thief was deceived
by its appearance your ---- being dressed for an evening party, and had
probably mistaken it for a cashmere. So much for the company one meets
at court! Too much importance, however, must not be attached to this
little _contretems_, as people of condition are apt to procure tickets
for such places, and to give them to their _femmes de chambre_.
Probably, half the women present, the "jeunes et jolies" excepted, were
of this class. But mentioning this affair to the old Princesse de ----,
she edified me by an account of the manner in which Madame la Comtesse
de ---- had actually appropriated to the service of her own pretty person
the _cachemire_ of Madame la Baronne de ----, in the royal presence; and
how there was a famous quarrel, _a l'outrance_, about it; so I suspend
my opinions as to the quality of the thief.

LETTER X.

Road to Versailles.--Origin of Versailles.--The present Chateau.--The
two Trianons.--La Petite Suisse.--Royal Pastime.--Gardens of Versailles.
--The State Apartments.--Marie Antoinette's Chamber.--Death of Louis XV.
--Oeil de Boeuf.--The Theatre and Chapel.--A
Quarry.--Caverns.--Compiegne.--Chateau de Pierre-font.--Influence of
Monarchy.--Orangery at Versailles.

To R. COOPER, ESQ., COOPERSTOWN, NEW YORK.

We have been to Versailles, and although I have no intention to give a
laboured description of a place about which men have written and talked
these two centuries, it is impossible to pass over a spot of so much
celebrity in total silence.

The road to Versailles lies between the park of St. Cloud and the
village and manufactories of Sevres. A little above the latter is a
small palace, called Meudon, which, from its