assembly approached.  God knows, I was thinking of nothing, when who should enter but the honourable Lady accompanied by her noble husband and their silly, scheming daughter, with her small waist and flat neck; and, with disdainful looks and a haughty air they passed me by.  As I heartily detest the whole race, I determined upon going away; and only waited till the count had disengaged himself from their impertinent prattle, to take leave, when the agreeable Miss B—­ came in.  As I never meet her without experiencing a heartfelt pleasure, I stayed and talked to her, leaning over the back of her chair, and did not perceive, till after some time, that she seemed a little confused, and ceased to answer me with her usual ease of manner.  I was struck with it.  “Heavens!” I said to myself, “can she, too, be like the rest?” I felt annoyed, and was about to withdraw; but I remained, notwithstanding, forming excuses for her conduct, fancying she did not mean it, and still hoping to receive some friendly recognition.  The rest of the company now arrived.  There was the Baron F —­, in an entire suit that dated from the coronation of Francis I.; the Chancellor N—­, with his deaf wife; the shabbily-dressed I—­, whose old-fashioned coat bore evidence of modern repairs:  this crowned the whole.  I conversed with some of my acquaintances, but they answered me laconically.  I was engaged in observing Miss B—­, and did not notice that the women were whispering at the end of the room, that the murmur extended by degrees to the men, that Madame S—­ addressed the count with much warmth (this was all related to me subsequently by Miss B—­); till at length the count came up to me, and took me to the window.  “You know our ridiculous customs,” he said.  “I perceive the company is rather displeased at your being here.  I would not on any account—­” “I beg your excellency’s pardon!” I exclaimed.  “I ought to have thought of this before, but I know you will forgive this little inattention.  I was going,” I added, “some time ago, but my evil genius detained me.”  And I smiled and bowed, to take my leave.  He shook me by the hand, in a manner which expressed everything.  I hastened at once from the illustrious assembly, sprang into a carriage, and drove to M—.  I contemplated the setting sun from the top of the hill, and read that beautiful passage in Homer, where Ulysses is entertained by the hospitable herdsmen.  This was indeed delightful.

I returned home to supper in the evening.  But few persons were assembled in the room.  They had turned up a corner of the table-cloth, and were playing at dice.  The good-natured A—­ came in.  He laid down his hat when he saw me, approached me, and said in a low tone, “You have met with a disagreeable adventure.”  “I!” I exclaimed.  “The count obliged you to withdraw from the assembly!” “Deuce take the assembly!” said I.  “I was very glad to be gone.”  “I am delighted,” he added, “that you take it so lightly.  I am only sorry that it is already so much spoken of.”  The circumstance then began to pain me.  I fancied that every one who sat down, and even looked at me, was thinking of this incident; and my heart became embittered.