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She took in "La Corbeille," a lady's journal, and the "Sylphe des Salons." She devoured, without skipping a word, all the accounts of first nights, races, and soirees, took interest in the debut of a singer, in the opening of a new shop. She knew the latest fashions, the addresses of the best tailors, the days of the Bois and the Opera.
She took in "La Corbeille," a lady's journal, and the "Sylphe des Salons." She devoured, without skipping a word, all the accounts of first nights, races, and soirées, took an interest in the début of a singer, in the opening of a new shop. She knew the latest fashions, the addresses of the best tailors, the days of the Bois and the Opera.
As a partner now took away my little Southern friend, I caught Chinic on the wing, got introduced once more, and found myself careering in a galop down the room with a large-looking girl Mlle. Sylphe whose activity was out of proportion to her figure, though in more harmony with her name.
'Egle Pigmalion' and 'le Sylphe' were successively given: nothing could bear the comparison.
'Egle Pigmalion' and 'le Sylphe' were successively given: nothing could bear the comparison.
De Rheims stood with Mde. Fée, the aunt of Mile. Sylphe, near the musicians, receiving and surveying her subjects, a woman of majestic presence. Nodding dismissal to the fierce moustache, she acknowledged my deep bow with a slight but gracious inclination. "Madame Fée, permit me to introduce Monsieur Chamilly Haviland, a D'Argentenaye of Dormillière, and the last.
"Pardon me, sir, your name is Mr. 'Aviland, I believe," interrupted a young man with a close-cut, very thick, very black beard, and the waxed ends of his moustache fiercely turned up. I bowed. "Our Sovereign Lady De Rheims requests the pleasure of your conversation." On turning to Mlle. Sylphe to make my excuses, she smiled, saying with a regretful grimace: "Obeissez." Mde.
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