play　of　the　eyes；　in　which　could　be　discerned　the　expression
  peculiar　to　women　of　the　old　Court；　an　expression　that　cannot　be
  defined　in　words。　Those　fine　and　mobile　features　might　quite　as
  well　indicate　bad　feelings；　and　suggest　astuteness　and　womanly
  artifice　carried　to　a　high　pitch　of　wickedness；　as　reveal　the
  refined　delicacy　of　a　beautiful　soul。
  Indeed；　the　face　of　a　woman　has　this　element　of　mystery　to　puzzle
  the　ordinary　observer；　that　the　difference　between　frankness　and
  duplicity；　the　genius　for　intrigue　and　the　genius　of　the　heart；
  is　there　inscrutable。　A　man　gifted　with　the　penetrating　eye　can
  read　the　intangible　shade　of　difference　produced　by　a　more　or
  less　curved　line；　a　more　or　less　deep　dimple；　a　more　or　less
  prominent　feature。　The　appreciation　of　these　indications　lies
  entirely　in　the　domain　of　intuition；　this　alone　can　lead　to　the
  discovery　of　what　everyone　is　interested　in　concealing。　The　old
  lady's　face　was　like　the　room　she　inhabited；　it　seemed　as
  difficult　to　detect　whether　this　squalor　covered　vice　or　the
  highest　virtue；　as　to　decide　whether　Adelaide's　mother　was　an　old
  coquette　accustomed　to　weigh；　to　calculate；　to　sell　everything；
  or　a　loving　woman；　full　of　noble　feeling　and　amiable　qualities。
  But　at　Schinner's　age　the　first　impulse　of　the　heart　is　to
  believe　in　goodness。　And　indeed；　as　he　studied　Adelaide's　noble
  and　almost　haughty　brow；　as　he　looked　into　her　eyes　full　of　soul
  and　thought；　he　breathed；　so　to　speak；　the　sweet　and　modest
  fragrance　of　virtue。　In　the　course　of　the　conversation　he　seized
  an　opportunity　of　discussing　portraits　in　general；　to　give
  himself　a　pretext　for　examining　the　frightful　pastel；　of　which
  the　color　had　flown；　and　the　chalk　in　many　places　fallen　away。
  〃You　are　attached　to　that　picture　for　the　sake　of　the　likeness；
  no　doubt；　mesdames；　for　the　drawing　is　dreadful？〃　he　said；
  looking　at　Adelaide。
  〃It　was　done　at　Calcutta；　in　great　haste；〃　replied　the　mother　in
  an　agitated　voice。
  She　gazed　at　the　formless　sketch　with　the　deep　absorption　which
  memories　of　happiness　produce　when　they　are　roused　and　fall　on
  the　heart　like　a　beneficent　dew　to　whose　refreshing　touch　we　love
  to　yield　ourselves　up；　but　in　the　expression　of　the　old　lady's
  face　there　were　traces　too　of　perennial　regret。　At　least；　it　was
  thus　that　the　painter　chose　to　interpret　her　attitude　and
  countenance；　and　he　presently　sat　down　again　by　her　side。
  〃Madame；〃　he　said；　〃in　a　very　short　time　the　colors　of　that
  pastel　will　have　disappeared。　The　portrait　will　only　survive　in
  your　memory。　Where　you　will　still　see　the　face　that　is　dear　to
  you；　others　will　see　nothing　at　all。　Will　you　allow　me　to
  reproduce　the　likeness　on　canvas？　It　will　be　more　permanently
  recorded　then　than　on　that　sheet　of　paper。　Grant　me；　I　beg；　as　a
  neighborly　favor；　the　pleasure　of　doing　you　this　service。　There
  are　times　when　an　artist　is　glad　of　a　respite　from　his　greater
  undertakings　by　doing　work　of　less　lofty　pretensions；　so　it　will
  be　a　recreation　for　me　to　paint　that　head。〃
  The　old　lady　flushed　as　she　heard　the　painter's　words；　and
  Adelaide　shot　one　of　those　glances　of　deep　feeling　which　seem　to
  flash　from　the　soul。　Hippolyte　wanted　to　feel　some　tie　linking
  him　with　his　two　neighbors；　to　conquer　a　right　to　mingle　in　their
  life。　His　offer；　appealing　as　it　did　to　the　liveliest　affections
  of　the　heart；　was　the　only　one　he　could　possibly　make；　it
  gratified　his　pride　as　an　artist；　and　could　not　hurt　the　feelings
  of　the　ladies。　Madame　Leseigneur　accepted；　without　eagerness　or
  reluctance；　but　with　the　self…possession　of　a　noble　soul；　fully
  aware　of　the　character　of　bonds　formed　by　such　an　obligation；
  while；　at　the　same　time；　they　are　its　highest　glory　as　a　proof　of
  esteem。
  〃I　fancy；〃　said　the　painter；　〃that　the　uniform　is　that　of　a　naval
  officer。〃
  Yes；〃　she　said；　〃that　of　a　captain　in　command　of　a　vessel。
  Monsieur　de　Rouvillemy　husbanddied　at　Batavia　in　consequence
  of　a　wound　received　in　a　fight　with　an　English　ship　they　fell　in
  with　off　the　Asiatic　coast。　He　commanded　a　frigate　of　fifty…six
  guns　and　the　Revenge　carried　ninety…six。　The　struggle　was　very
  unequal；　but　he　defended　his　ship　so　bravely　that　he　held　out
  till　nightfall　and　got　away。　When　I　came　back　to　France　Bonaparte
  was　not　yet　in　power；　and　I　was　refused　a　pension。　When　I　applied
  again　for　it；　quite　lately；　I　was　sternly　informed　that　if　the
  Baron　de　Rouville　had　emigrated　I　should　not　have　lost　him；　that
  by　this　time　he　would　have　been　a　rear…admiral；　finally；　his
  Excellency　quoted　I　know　not　what　degree　of　forfeiture。　I　took
  this　step；　to　which　I　was　urged　by　my　friends；　only　for　the　sake
  of　my　poor　Adelaide。　I　have　always　hated　the　idea　of　holding　out
  my　hand　as　a　beggar　in　the　name　of　a　grief　which　deprives　a　woman
  of　voice　and　strength。　I　do　not　like　this　money　valuation　for
  blood　irreparably　spilt〃
  〃Dear　mother；　this　subject　always　does　you　harm。〃
  In　response　to　this　remark　from　Adelaide；　the　Baronne　Leseigneur
  bowed；　and　was　silent。
  〃Monsieur；〃　said　the　young　girl　to　Hippolyte；　〃I　had　supposed
  that　a　painter's　work　was　generally　fairly　quiet？〃
  At　this　question　Schinner　colored；　remembering　the　noise　he　had
  made。　Adelaide　said　no　more；　and　spared　him　a　falsehood　by　rising
  at　the　sound　of　a　carriage　stopping　at　the　door。　She　went　into
  her　own　room；　and　returned　carrying　a　pair　of　tall　gilt
  candlesticks　with　partly　burnt　wax　candles；　which　she　quickly
  lighted；　and　without　waiting　for　the　bell　to　ring；　she　opened　the
  door　of　the　outer　room；　where　she　set　the　lamp　down。　The　sound　of
  a　kiss　given　and　received　found　an　echo　in　Hippolyte's　heart。　The
  young　man's　impatience　to　see　the　man　who　treated　Adelaide　with
  so　much　familiarity　was　not　immediately　gratified；　the　newcomers
  had　a　conversation；　which　he　thought　very　long；　in　an　undertone；
  with　the　young　girl。
  At　last　Mademoiselle　de　Rouville　returned；　followed　by　two　men；
  whose　costume；　countenance；　and　appearance　are　a　long　story。
  The　first；　a　man　of　about　sixty；　wore　one　of　the　coats　invented；
  I　believe；　for　Louis　XVIII。；　then　on　the　throne；　in　which　the
  most　difficult　problem　of　the　sartorial　art　had　been　solved　by　a
  tailor　who　ought　to　be　immortal。　That　artist　certainly　understood
  the　art　of　compromise；　which　was　the　moving　genius　of　that　period
  of　shifting　politics。　Is　it　not　a　rare　merit　to　be　able　to　take
  the　measure　of　the　time？　This　coat；　which　the　young　men　of　the
  present　day　may　conceive　to　be　fabulous；　was　neither　civil　nor
  military；　and　might　pass　for　civil　or　military　by　turns。　Fleurs…
  de…lis　were　embroidered　on　the　lapels　of　the　back　skirts。　The
  gilt　buttons　also　bore　fleurs…de…lis；　on　the　shoulders　a　pair　of
  straps　cried　out　for　useless　epaulettes；　these　military
  appendages　were　there　like　a　petition　without　a　recommendation。
  This　old　gentleman's　coat　was　of　dark　blue　cloth；　and　the
  buttonhole　had　blossomed　into　many　colored　ribbons。　He；　no　doubt；
  always　carried　his　hat　in　his　handa　three　cornered　cocked　hat；
  with　a　gold　cordfor　the　snowy　wings　of　his　powdered　hair　showed
  not　a　trace　of　its　pressure。　He　might　have　been　taken　for　not
  more　than　fifty　years　of　age；　and　seemed　to　enjoy　robust　health。
  While　wearing　the　frank　and　loyal　expression　of　the　old　emigres；
  his　countenance　also　hinted　at　the　easy　habits　of　a　libertine；　at
  the　light　and　reckless　passions　of　the　Musketeers　formerly　so
  famous　in　the　annals　of　gallantry。　His　gestures；　his　attitude；
  and　his　manner　proclaimed　that　he　had　no　intention　of　correcting
  himself　of　his　royalism；　of　his　religion；　or　of　his　love　affairs。
  A　really　fantastic　figure　came　in　behind　this　specimen　of　〃Louis
  XIV。's　light　infantry〃a　nickname　given　by　the　Bonapartists　to
  these　venerable　survivors　of　the　Monarchy。　To　do　it　justice　it
  ought　to　be　made　the　principal　object　in　the　picture；　and　it　is
  but　an　accessory。　Imagine　a　lean；　dry　man；　dressed　like　the
  former；　but　seeming　to　be　only　his　reflection；　or　his　shadow；　if
  you　will。　The　coat；　new　on　the　first；　on　the　second　was　old；　the
  powder　in　his　hair　looked　less　white；　the　gold　of　the　fleurs…de…
  lis　less　bright；　the　shoulder　straps　more　hopeless　and　dog's
  eared；　his　intellect　seemed　more　feeble；　his　life　nearer　the
  fatal　term　than　in　the　former。　In　short；　he　realized　Rivarol's
  witticism　on　Champcenetz；　〃He　is　the　moonlight　of　me。〃　He　was
  simply　his　double；　a　paler　and　poorer　double；　for　there　was
  between　them　all　the　difference　that　lies　between　the　first　and
  last　impressions　of　a　lithograph。
  This　speechless　old　man　was　a　mystery　to　the　painter；　and　always
  remained　a　mystery。　The　Chevalier；　for　he　was　a　Chevalier；　did
  not　speak；　nobody　spoke　to　him。　Was　he　a　friend；　a　poor　relation；
  a　man　who　followed　at　the　old　gallant's　heels　as　a　lady　companion
  does　at　an　old　lady's？　Did　he　fill　a　place　midway　between　a　dog；
  a　parrot；　and　a　friend？　Had　he　saved　his　patron's　fo