As I entered the door of the saloon, I was met by a person who possibly might be the maître d'hôtel, but had more the air of one of the under-secretaries, who told me the Duc de Cwas busy. I am utterly ignorant, said I, of the forms of obtaining an audience, being an absolute stranger, and, what is worse in the present conjuncture of affairs, being an Englishman too. He replied, that did not increase the difficulty. I made him a slight bow, and told him, I had something of importance to say to Monsieur le Duc. The secretary looked towards the stairs, as if he was about to leave me to carry up this account to some one. But I must not mislead you, said I, for what I have to say is of no manner of importance to Monsieur le Duc de C, but of great importance to myself. autre affaire, replied he. Not at all, said I, to a man of gallantry. But pray, good sir, continued I, when can a stranger hope to have accesse? In not less than two hours, said he, looking at his watch. The number of equipages in the courtyard seemed to justify the calculation that I could have no nearer a prospect; and as walking backwards and forwards in the saloon, without a soul to commune with, was for the time as bad as being in the Bastile itself, I instantly went back to my remise, and bid the coachman drive me to the Cordon Bleu, which was the nearest hotel.

C'est une

I think there is a fatality in it, I seldom go to the place I set out for.

BEFORE I had got half-way down the street, I changed my mind: as I am at Versailles, thought I, I might as well take a view of the town; so I pulled the cord, and ordered the coachman to drive round some of the principal streets. I suppose the town is not very large, said I. The coach

man begged pardon for setting me right,

and told me it was very superb, and that numbers of the first dukes and marquises and counts had hotels. The Count de B- of whom the bookseller at the Quai de Conti had spoke

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so handsomely the night before, came instantly into my mind. And why should I not go, thought I, to the Count de B who has so high an idea of English books and Englishmen, and tell him my story? So I changed my mind a second time. In truth, it was the third; for I had intended that day for Madame de R, in the Rue St. Pierre, and had devoutly sent her word by her fille de chambre that I would assuredly wait upon her; but I am governed by circumstances: I cannot govern them: so seeing a man standing with a basket on the other side of the street, as if he had something to sell, I bid La Fleur go up to him, and inquire for the Count's hotel.

La Fleur returned a little pale, and told me it was a Chevalier de St. Louis selling pâtés. It is impossible, La Fleur, said I. La Fleur could no more account for the phenomenon than myself; but persisted in his story; he had seen the croix set in gold, with its red ribbon, he said, tied to his button-hole; and had looked into the basket, and seen the pâtés which the Chevalier was selling; so could not be mistaken in that.

Such a reverse in a man's life awakens a better principle than curiosity: I could not help looking for some time at him as I sat in the remise. The more I looked at him, his croix, and his basket, the stronger they wove themselves into my brain. I got out of the remise, and went towards him.

He was begirt with a clean linen apron, .which fell below his knees, and with a sort of a bib that went half-way up his breast. Upon the top of this, but a little below the hem, hung his croix. His basket of little pâtés was covered over with a white damask napkin; another of the same kind was spread at the bottom; and there was such a look of propreté and neatness throughout, that one might have bought his pâtés of him as much from appetite as sentiment.