"_Oui_--after a fashion, but in a way not appreciated, I fear, in such salons." The old gentleman chuckled over his son's modesty--he could imagine it nothing else--and insisted upon the venture. The student was a guest; but determined to keep by the wall, as a spectator of the refined gallopades of the quarter d'Antin. The first look, however, at the salon polka plunged him into a profound reverie. Was it indeed true that he was in the elegant saloon of the _Marquise_ M----? thought he, gaining courage. It was his method precisely--the very dance that Amy had taught him--practiced with all their picturesque temerity. Sure of his power, and using all the art of the _Mabile_, he gave himself up to two hours of most exhilarating pastime. "They have calumniated the _beau monde_," mused he in leaving. "I find it very entertaining. Our dances are not only understood, but cultivated--practiced; and, _ma foi_, I rather prefer handling these countesses, to those very greedy grisettes." Our brave student at law might possibly find his paces as well understood, in some American saloons as in those of the Chausée d'Antin! * * * * * We close our long chat for the month with a little whimsicality of travel, which comes to us in the letter of a friend. Major M'Gowd was of Irish extraction (which he denied)--had been in the English service (which he boasted), and is, or was two years ago, serving under the Austrian flag. He was not a profound man; but, as majors go, a very good sort of major, and great disciplinarian--as the following will show: You have seen the Austrian troops in review, and must have noticed the curious way in which their cloaks are carried around their necks, making the poor fellows look like the Vauxhall showman, looking out from the folds of a gigantic anaconda. On one occasion, the major, being officer of the day, observed a soldier with his cloak lying loosely upon his arm. "Where's your cloak, rascal?" was the major's peremptory demand. "Here, sir," was the reply. "What's the use of a cloak if it's not rolled up?" thundered the major; and the poor scamp was sent to the lock-up. Thus much for the major's discipline. But like most old officers of no great depth of brain, the major had his standard joke, which had gone the rounds of a hundred mess-tables. Latterly, however, he had grown coy of a repetition, and seems to cherish a suspicion that he has not cut so good a figure in the story as he once imagined. A little after-dinner mellowness, however, is sure to bring the major to his trump card, and in knowledge of this, Ned and myself (who had never heard his story), one day tempted the major's appetite with some very generous Tokay. Major M'Gowd bore up, as most old officers are able to do, to a very late hour, and it was not till eleven that he seemed fairly kindled. "Well, major, now for the story," said we.