“The Chevalier des I. was a handsome man, tall, dark-visaged, and whiskered, with a look rather of the new than of the old French school, fierce and soldierly; he was accomplished too, played the flute, and wrote songs and enigmas. His wife, the prettiest of women, was the silliest Frenchwoman I ever encountered. She never opened her lips without uttering some _bêtise_. Her poor husband, himself not the wisest of men, quite dreaded her speaking. “It happened that the Abbé de Lille, the celebrated French poet, and M. de Colonne, the ex-minister, had promised one Saturday to join the party in Brunswick Square. They came: and our chevalier [as a poet] could not miss so fair an opportunity of display. Accordingly, about half an hour before supper he put on a look of _distraction_, strode hastily two or three times up and down the room, slapped his fore-head, and muttered a line or two to himself, then, calling hastily for pen and paper, began writing with the illegible rapidity of one who fears to lose a happy thought;—in short, he acted incomparably the whole agony of composition, and finally, with becoming diffidence, presented the impromptu to our worthy host, who immediately imparted it to the company. It was heard with lively approbation. At last the commerce of flattery ceased; the author’s excuses, the ex-minister’s and the great poet’s thanks, and the applause of the audience died away. “A pause [now] ensued which was broken by Madame des I., who had witnessed the whole scene with intense pleasure, and who exclaimed, with tears standing in her beautiful eyes, ‘How glad I am they like the impromptu! My poor dear chevalier! No tongue can tell what pains it has cost him! There he was all yesterday evening writing, writing,—all the night long—never went to bed—all to-day—only finished just before we came. My poor dear chevalier! Now he’ll be satisfied.’ “Be it recorded to the honour of French politeness that finding it impossible to stop or to out-talk her, the whole party pretended not to hear, and never once alluded to this impromptu _fait à loisir_ till the discomforted chevalier sneaked off with his pretty simpleton. Then to be sure they did laugh....