LETTER XIII.

Paris.

I dined yesterday with an equal number of both sexes, at the Chevalier B——’s. He is F——’s very intimate friend, and has a charming house within a few leagues of Paris, which the Marquis makes full as much use of as the owner.

The Chevalier has a considerable revenue, which he spends with equal magnificence and œconomy. He has been married many years to his present lady, a most agreeable woman, with whom he possesses every thing which can make their union happy, except children. They endeavour to forget this disagreeable circumstance, by a constant succession of company; and, which is very singular here, the society entertained by the husband and wife are the same.

F——, though much younger than either, is a great favourite of both; and they are always pleased when he invites a small company of his friends to dine at their house.

The present party was proposed by Madame de M——, a rich young widow, much admired here; of whom I shall give you a glimpse, en passant—for do not imagine I undertake to describe the most undescribable of all human beings,—a fine French lady.

Madame de M—— has some wit, more beauty, and vivacity in the greatest measure:—if there were a fourth degree of comparison, I should place her vanity there. She laughs a great deal, and she is in the right; for her teeth are remarkably fine. She talks very much, and in a loud and decisive tone of voice.—This is not so judicious, because her sentiments are not so brilliant as her teeth, and her voice is rather harsh.—She is received with attention and respect every where;—that she owes to her rank.—She is liked and followed by the men; this she owes to her beauty. She is not disliked by the women, which is probably owing to her foibles.

This lady is thought to be fond of F——: so, to prevent scandal, she desired me to call at her house, and attend her to the Chevalier’s.

I found her at her toilette, in consultation with a general officer and two abbés, concerning a new head-dress which she had just invented.—It was smart and fanciful; and, after a few corrections, received the sanction of all those critics. They declared it to be a valuable discovery, and foretold that it would immediately become the general mode of Paris, and do immortal honour to the genius of Madame de M——.

She wheeled from before the glass, with an air of exultation.—Allons, donc, mes enfans—à la gloire,—cried she; and was proceeding to give orders for her equipage, when a servant entered, and informed her, that Madame la Comtesse had accepted her invitation, and would certainly do herself the honour of dining with her.

I despair of giving you an idea of the sudden change which this message occasioned in the features of Madame de M——. Had she heard of the death of her father, or her only child, she could not have been more confounded.—Est il possible (said she, with an accent of despair) qu’on puisse être si bête!—The servant was called, and examined regarding the import of the answer he had brought from Madame la Comtesse.—It was even so—she was assuredly to come.—Fresh exclamations on the part of Madame de M——. Did you send to invite her for this day? said I.—Undoubtedly I did, replied Madame de M——. That could be delayed no longer.—She came to town last Sunday.—I therefore sent her the politest message in the world, begging to have the honour of her company for this day, at dinner; and behold, the horrid woman (with a rudeness, or ignorance of life without example) sends me word she will come.

It is very shocking, indeed, said I, that she should have misunderstood your kindness so prodigiously.—Is it not, said she? Could any mortal have expected so barbarous a return of civility?—She is connected with some of my relations in the country:—when she came to town, I immediately left my name with her porter.—She called next day on me—I had informed my Swiss, that I was always to be out when she came. I was denied accordingly.—Celà est tout simple, et selon les régles. The woman is twenty years older than I, and we must be insupportable to each other.—She ought to have seen, that my invitation was dictated by politeness only:—the same politeness on her part should have prompted her to send a refusal. In this manner we might have visited each other, dined and supped together, and remained on the most agreeable footing imaginable through the whole course of our lives:—but this instance of grosièreté must put an end to all connection.—Well—there is no remedy:—I must suffer purgatory for this one day. Adieu.—Present my compliments to Madame B——. Inform her of this horrid accident.

Having condoled with Madame de M—— on her unmerited misfortune, I took my leave and joined F——, to whom I recounted the sad chance which had deprived us of that lady’s company.

He did not appear quite so unhappy as she had on the occasion; but he swore he was convinced that the Countess had accepted the invitation to dinner par pure malice; for, to his knowledge, she was acquainted with their party to the Chevalier B——’s, and had certainly seized that opportunity of plaguing Madame de M——, whom she hated. Without that douceur, he imagined, the dinner would be as great a purgatory to the Countess, as it could possibly be to Madame de M——. How these affectionate friends contrived to pass their time together I know not, but we had a most agreeable party at the Chevalier’s—the Marquis entertaining the company with the history of Madame M——’s misfortune, and the loving tête à tête which it had occasioned.—This he related with such sprightliness, and described his own grief and disappointment with such a flow of good humour, as in some degree indemnified the company for the lady’s absence.