On Thursday, a beautiful equipage was seen in the Champs Elysées, containing an elderly gentleman and a lady; the latter, though her face was covered with a thick veil, appeared to be young and handsome. The gentleman, an Englishman, Sir Edward ----, is said to be one of the oddest and most eccentric fellows ever produced by prolific Albion. A talented pianist was lately summoned to his house. His services were required for an evening party, and a generous recompense was promised. The musician came early, and he was introduced into a spacious drawing-room, where many persons were already assembled. This apartment, which was magnificently furnished, was but dimly lighted by two lamps, and scarcely heated at all--the splendid fireplace, adorned with costly bronzes, containing only a wretched fire, which cast a sepulchral glare over the rich furniture. The host went to meet the musician as soon as the footman had announced him, and received him in a most flattering manner. A lady, most sumptuously and elegantly dressed, was seated on a sofa. "Allow me to introduce you to Lady ----, my wife!" said Sir Edward. The musician made a profound obeisance, which the lady, nevertheless, took no notice of; she sat straight and immovable, and fixed an unearthly gaze on the new-comer. There was another lady in an arm-chair, leaning with her elbow on a round table, and apparently reading a book with the greatest attention. "My sister, Miss Emily," said Sir Edward. "Mademoiselle," said the pianist, with a bow; but in vain did he repeat the word and the salutation to call the attention of the young lady; she neither moved nor raised her eyes from the book. "She has always loved reading very much," said Sir Edward. "Rather more than politeness would warrant!" thought the _artiste_ to himself. The remainder of the company consisted of five or six gentlemen. The _artiste_ observed, with astonishment, that all these persons affected a strange immobility, just like the lady and sister of Sir Edward. "Will you take a seat at the piano?" said Sir Edward. "What do you wish me to play?" asked the musician. "Shall I select the pieces, or will madam have the kindness to point out some favorite _morceau_?" Miladi did not reply, and Sir Edward, answering for her, said, "My wife and I have the same taste in music, so play a piece of Mozart or Listz, and one of your own compositions." "I will begin my own, therefore; for after those masters mine would not be acceptable!" modestly replied the _artiste_. The sofa on which Miladi was seated was very near the piano, and placed in such a manner that the _artiste_ had the lady opposite him. He looked at her while he was playing, in order to read in her countenance the impression which the music might produce on her. The handkerchief which Miladi held in her hand, having, after a while, fallen to the ground, the musician rushed forward to pick it up: and, in doing so, could not refrain from uttering an exclamation of surprise.