f the disgust, in which her anticipated proximity
was held, Mrs. Fairchild, in high spirits, bought the most beautiful
of white satin Opera cloaks, and ordered the most expensive
paraphernalia she could think of to make it all complete, and
determined on sporting diamonds that would dazzle old acquaintances,
(if any presumed to be there,) and make even the fashionables stare.

The first night opened with a very brilliant house. Every body was
there, and every body in full dress. Mrs. Fairchild had as much as she
could do to look around. To be sure she knew nobody, but then it was
pleasant to see them all. She learnt a few names from the conversation
that she overheard of the Ashfields and Harpers, as they nodded to
different acquaintances about the house. And then, during the
intervals, different friends came and chatted a little while with
them, and the Bankheads leaned across and exchanged a few animated
words; and, in short, every body seemed so full of talk, and so
intimate with every body, except poor Mrs. Fairchild, who sat, loaded
with finery, and no one to speak to but her husband, who was by this
time yawning wearily, well-nigh worn out with the fatigue of hearing
two acts of a grand Italian Opera.

As Mrs. Fairchild began to recover self-possession enough to
comprehend what was going on among them, she found to her surprise,
from their conversation, that the music was not all alike; that one
singer was "divine," another "only so so;" the orchestra admirable,
and the choruses very indifferent. She could not comprehend how they
could tell one from another. "They all sang at the same time; and as
for the chorus and orchestra, she did not know 'which was which.'"

Then there was a great deal said about "_contraltos_" and
"_sopranos_;" and when her husband asked her what they meant, she
replied, "she did not know, it was _French_!" They talked, too, of
Rossini and Bellini, and people who _read_ and _wrote_ music, and that
quite passed her comprehension. She thought "music was only played and
sung;" and what they meant by reading and writing it, she could not
divine. Had they talked of eating it, it would have sounded to her
about as rational.

Occasionally one of the Hamiltons sat with some of the set, for it
seemed they had no regular places of their own. "Of course not," said
Mrs Fairchild, contemptuously. "They can't afford it," which
expressive phrase summed up, with both husband and wife, the very
essence