But while I followed, with eye and mind, the movements of the stage, Lafontaine was otherwise employed. His opera-glass was roving the boxes; and he continually poured into my most ungrateful ear remarks on the diplomatic body, and recognitions of the _merveilleux_ glittering round the circle. At last, growing petulant at being thus disturbed, I turned to beg of him to be silent, when he simply said--"La Voilà!" and pointed to a group which had just taken their seats in one of the private boxes. From that moment I saw no more of the tragedy. The party consisted of Clotilde, Madame la Maréchal, and a stern but stately-looking man, in a rich uniform, who paid them the most marked attention. "There is the Marquis," said my companion; "he has never smiled probably, since he was born, or, I suppose, he would smile to-night; for the secretary to the embassy told me, not half an hour ago, that his marriage-contract had just come over, with the king's signature." My heart sank within me at the sound. Still my gay informant went on, without much concerning himself about feelings which I felt alternately flushing and chilling me. "The match will be a capital one, if matters hold out for us. For Montrecour is one of the largest proprietors in France; but, as he is rather of the new noblesse, the blood of the De Tourvilles will be of considerable service to his pedigree. His new uniform shows me that he has got the colonelcy of my regiment, and, of course, I must attend his levee tomorrow. Will you come?" My look was a sufficient answer. "Ah!" said he, "you will not. Ah! there is exactly the national difference. Marriage opens the world to a French _belle_, as much as it shuts the world to an English one. Mademoiselle is certainly very handsome," said he, pausing, and fixing his opera-glass on her. "The contour of her countenance is positively fine; it reminds me of a picture of Clairon in Medea, in the King's private apartments--her smile charming, her eyes brilliant, and her diamonds perfect." I listened, without daring to lift my eyes; he rambled on--"Fortunate fellow, the Marquis--fortunate in every thing but that intolerable physiognomy of his--Grand Ecuyer, Gold Key, Cross of Saint Louis, and on the point of being the husband of the finest woman between Calais and Constantinople. Of course, you intend to leave your card on the marriage?" "No," was my answer. I suppose that there was something in the sound which struck him. He stared with palpable wonder. "What! are you not an old acquaintance? Have you not known her this month? Have you not walked, and talked, and waltzed, with her?" "Never spoke a word to her in my life." "Well, then, you shall not be left in such a forlorn condition long. I must pay my respects to my colonel. I dare say you may do the same to the _fiancée_. Mademoiselle will be charmed to have some interruption to his dreary attentions."