‘And you are not going to Astrachan to-morrow?’ said Edith. ‘Not to-morrow,’ said Coningsby. ‘You know that you said once that life was too stirring in these days to permit travel to a man?’ ‘I wish nothing was stirring,’ said Coningsby. ‘I wish nothing to change. All that I wish is, that this fête should never end.’ ‘Is it possible that you can be capricious? You perplex me very much.’ ‘Am I capricious because I dislike change?’ ‘But Astrachan?’ ‘It was the air of the Luxembourg that reminded me of the Desert,’ said Coningsby. Soon after this Coningsby led Edith to the dance. It was at a ball that he had first met her at Paris, and this led to other reminiscences; all most interesting. Coningsby was perfectly happy. All mysteries, all difficulties, were driven from his recollection; he lived only in the exciting and enjoyable present. Twenty-one and in love! Some time after this, Coningsby, who was inevitably separated from Edith, met his host. ‘Where have you been, child,’ said Sidonia, ‘that I have not seen you for some days? I am going to Madrid tomorrow.’ ‘And I must think, I suppose, of Cambridge.’ ‘Well, you have seen something; you will find it more profitable when you have digested it: and you will have opportunity. That’s the true spring of wisdom: meditate over the past. Adventure and Contemplation share our being like day and night.’ The resolute departure for England on the morrow had already changed into a supposed necessity of thinking of returning to Cambridge. In fact, Coningsby felt that to quit Paris and Edith was an impossibility. He silenced the remonstrance of his conscience by the expedient of keeping a half-term, and had no difficulty in persuading himself that a short delay in taking his degree could not really be of the slightest consequence. It was the hour for supper. The guests at a French ball are not seen to advantage at this period. The custom of separating the sexes for this refreshment, and arranging that the ladies should partake of it by themselves, though originally founded in a feeling of consideration and gallantry, and with the determination to secure, under all circumstances, the convenience and comfort of the fair sex, is really, in its appearance and its consequences, anything but European, and produces a scene which rather reminds one of the harem of a sultan than a hall of chivalry. To judge from the countenances of the favoured fair, they are not themselves particularly pleased; and when their repast is over they necessarily return to empty halls, and are deprived of the dance at the very moment when they may feel most inclined to participate in its graceful excitement.