I’ve been thinking some of taking a teacher, but am well acquainted with the grammar already, and over here in Europe teachers don’t seem to think it’s _really_ in their interest to let you press forward. The more you strike out and realise your power the less they’ve got to teach you. I was a good deal troubled anyhow, for I felt as if I didn’t want to go away without having at least got a general idea of French conversation. The theatre gives you a good deal of insight, and as I told you in my last I go a good deal to the brightest places of amusement. I find no difficulty whatever in going to such places alone, and am always treated with the politeness which, as I’ve mentioned—for I want you to feel happy about that—I encounter everywhere from the best people. I see plenty of other ladies alone (mostly French) and they generally seem to be enjoying themselves as much as I. Only on the stage every one talks so fast that I can scarcely make out what they say; and, besides, there are a great many vulgar expressions which it’s unnecessary to learn. But it was this experience nevertheless that put me on the track. The very next day after I wrote to you last I went to the Palais Royal, which is one of the principal theatres in Paris. It’s very small but very celebrated, and in my guide-book it’s marked with _two stars_, which is a sign of importance attached only to _first-class_ objects of interest. But after I had been there half an hour I found I couldn’t understand a single word of the play, they gabbled it off so fast and made use of such peculiar expressions. I felt a good deal disappointed and checked—I saw I wasn’t going to come out where I had dreamed. But while I was thinking it over—thinking what I _would_ do—I heard two gentlemen talking behind me. It was between the acts, and I couldn’t help listening to what they said. They were talking English, but I guess they were Americans. “Well,” said one of them, “it all depends on what you’re after. I’m after French; that’s what I’m after.” “Well,” said the other, “I’m after Art.” “Well,” said the first, “I’m after Art too; but I’m after French most.” Then, dear mother, I’m sorry to say the second one swore a little. He said “Oh damn French!” “No, I won’t damn French,” said his friend. “I’ll acquire it—that’s what I’ll do with it. I’ll go right into a family.” “What family’ll you go into?”