"It was a very large, and, I must admit, a very respectable saloon, although not exactly what I had expected to see at the very summit of the social Olympus. I dropped into a fauteuil near a centre-table, on which there was a fantastical silver-wrought card-basket. What struck me particularly about the basket was a well-known little Todworth envelope, superscribed in the delicate handwriting of my aristocratic cousin,--my letter of introduction, in fact,--displayed upon the very top of the pile of billets and cards. My own card I did not see; but in looking for it I discovered some curious specimens of foreign orthography,--one dainty little note to '_Madame Valtobureau_'; another laboriously addressed to '_M. et Mme. Jean Val-d'eau-Bèrot_'; and still a third, in which the name was conscientiously and industriously written out, '_Ouâldôbeurreaux_. This last, as an instance of spelling an English word _à la Française_, I thought a remarkable success, and very creditable to people who speak of _Lor Berong_, meaning Lord Byron, (_Be-wrong_ is good!) and talk glibly about _Frongclang_, and _Vashangtong_, meaning the great philosopher, and the Father of his Country.
"I was trying to amuse myself with these orthographical curiosities, yet waiting anxiously all the while for the appearance of that illustrious ornament of her sex, to whom they were addressed; and the servant's '_petit moment_' had become a good _petit quart d'heure_, when the drawing-room door opened, and in glided, not the Goddess, but the Spider.
"She had come to beg Monsieur (that was me) to have the bounty to excuse Madam (that was the Waldoborough), who had caused herself to be waited for, and who, I was assured, would give herself '_le plaisir de me voir dans un tout petit moment_.' So saying, with a smile, she seated herself; and, discovering that I was an American, began to talk bad English to me. I may say execrable English; for it is a habit your Frenchwoman often has, to abandon her own facile and fluent vernacular, which she speaks so charmingly, in order to show off a wretched smattering she may have acquired of your language,--from politeness, possibly, but I rather think from vanity. In the mean time Arachne busied her long agile fingers with some very appropriate embroidery; and busied her mind, too, I couldn't help thinking, weaving some intricate web of mischief,--for her eyes sparkled as they looked at me with a certain gleeful, malicious expression,--seeming to say, 'You have walked into my parlor, Mr. Fly, and I am sure to entangle you!' which made me feel uncomfortable.