Imitate Silva.

You remember, at Dona Risbonda's ball?
When he met the Comte de Dartigues, and knew he was to be in disgrace with his Court on the morrow?
Oh! the exquisite shade of difference in Silva's behaviour towards the Comte.

So finely, delicately perceptible to the Comte, and not a soul saw it but that wretched Frenchman! He came to me: "Madame," he said, "is a question permitted ?" I replied, "As-many as you please, M.le Comte, but no answers promised." He said: "May I ask if the Courier has yet come in ?"--"Nay, M.le Comte," I replied, "this is diplomacy.

Inquire of me, or better, give me an opinion on the new glace silk from Paris."-- "Madame," said he, bowing, "I hope Paris may send me aught so good, or that I shall grace half so well." I smiled, "You shall not be single in your hopes, M.le Comte.

The gift would be base that you did not embellish." He lifted his hands, French-fashion: "Madame, it is that I have received the gift."-- "Indeed! M.le Comte."-- "Even now from the Count de Saldar, your husband." I looked most innocently, "From my husband, M.le Comte ?"--"From him, Madame.