onsists of the softest little gray eyes in
the world, which rest upon you with a profundity of confidence--a
confidence that I really feel some compunction in betraying. She has a
tint as white as this sheet of paper, except just in the middle of each
cheek, where it passes into the purest and most transparent, most liquid,
carmine. Occasionally this rosy fluid overflows into the rest of her
face--by which I mean that she blushes--as softly as the mark of your
breath on the window-pane.

Like every Anglaise, she is rather pinched and prim in public; but it is
very easy to see that when no one is looking _elle ne demande qu'a se
laisser aller_! Whenever she wants it I am always there, and I have
given her to understand that she can count upon me. I have reason to
believe that she appreciates the assurance, though I am bound in honesty
to confess that with her the situation is a little less advanced than
with the others. _Que voulez-vous_? The English are heavy, and the
Anglaises move slowly, that's all. The movement, however, is
perceptible, and once this fact is established I can let the pottage
simmer. I can give her time to arrive, for I am over-well occupied with
her _concurrentes_. _Celles-ci_ don't keep me waiting, _par exemple_!

These young ladies are Americans, and you know that it is the national
character to move fast. "All right--go ahead!" (I am learning a great
deal of English, or, rather, a great deal of American.) They go ahead at
a rate that sometimes makes it difficult for me to keep up. One of them
is prettier than the other; but this hatter (the one that takes the
private lessons) is really _une file prodigieuse_. _Ah, par exemple,
elle brule ses vais-seux cella-la_! She threw herself into my arms the
very first day, and I almost owed her a grudge for having deprived me of
that pleasure of gradation, of carrying the defences, one by one, which
is almost as great as that of entering the place.

Would you believe that at the end of exactly twelve minutes she gave me a
rendezvous? It is true it was in the Galerie d'Apollon, at the Louvre;
but that was respectable for a beginning, and since then we have had them
by the dozen; I have ceased to keep the account. _Non, c'est une file
qui me depasse_.

The little one (she has a mother somewhere, out of sight, shut up in a
closet or a trunk) is a good deal prettier, and, perhaps, on that account
_elle y met plus de facons_. She doesn't kno