"Of course if a fellow's legs are so crooked that he can't dance or appear in a play, he has got to solace himself with billiards or eating, or some of the elegant accomplishments like playing the guitar. That's my system. There's philosophy in it too, by jove! I've done lots of philosophy by the smoke of a cigarette. It's philosophy properly tamed, in evening dress. It's philosophy made into a good Churchman, and Tory!" "La morale de la cigarette!" suggested Quinet. After all was not the highest thing simply to live the natural life of the time and place? "I refuse that," I cried to myself, "I ask a Permanent, an Eternal!" * * * * * In speculative Philosophy I sought it, urged by the saying reported of Confucius: "The Master said: 'I seek an all-pervading Unity,'" and much useless labor did I spend upon the profound work of the monarch of modern thinkers--Immanuel Kant. In a depression at the end of this labor I finally threw my books aside. It was afternoon, dull and dusty: a thunderstorm was brewing. I walked to the Square. What is that carriage with golden-bay horses?--that fresh image of loveliness--so calm--serene in queenly peace--the spiritual eyes! "Alexandra, I am miserable; elevate and purify my hopes with a smile, when I need thy presence--ma belle Anglaise"--No, she looks coldly and drives on in her equipage without even a recognition.--Is anything wrong?--I am deeply dispirited.--Another street--she passes again without bowing--not even looking this time. Wretched Haviland!--Where is mercy and what is left for me in the world?--I will rebel about this.--I will give up trying to seek the best, and turn away from Alexandra. At dinner that night, my grandmother said "You must go to Picault's ball, my dear;" and my grave, oracular father added: "Yes, you shall go among our people now. I am about to send you to France." The prospect of that journey, to which it had been my joy at other times to look forward, affected me little in my disturbed condition. CHAPTER X. THE ENTHUSIASM OF SOCIAL PLEASURE. Grace Carter came over on the way to the ball, and when I descended I found her entertaining my grandmother, while a young man named Chinic, teaming with good nature and compliments, sat near her and rising with the rest grasped me by the hand as I entered. Grace too, smiling, held out her hand. As we went to the door my grandmother delivered me over to her, saying playfully: "Chamilly will be in your charge this evening. He is melancholy. C'est a toi de le guerir." "I will be his sister of Charity!" she cried merrily and pressed my arm. I laughed. It was not so undelightful to be taken into the companionship of a graceful girl. As we whirled along in the carriage, the half-moon in the dark blue sky, making heavy shadows on the trees and mansions, lit her cheek and Greek-knotted hair on the side next me with a glamour so that her head and shoulders shone softly in it like a bust of Venus.