In fact, I
      was just in that condition of mind which prepares a young and
      susceptible man for any act of extravagance. Had the lady been
      alone, I should undoubtedly have entered her box and accosted her
      at all hazards; but, fortunately, she was attended by two
      companions—a gentleman, and a strikingly beautiful woman, to all
      appearance a few years younger than herself. I revolved in my mind a thousand schemes by which I might obtain,
      hereafter, an introduction to the elder lady, or, for the
      present, at all events, a more distinct view of her beauty. I
      would have removed my position to one nearer her own, but the
      crowded state of the theatre rendered this impossible; and the
      stern decrees of Fashion had, of late, imperatively prohibited
      the use of the opera-glass in a case such as this, even had I
      been so fortunate as to have one with me—but I had not—and was
      thus in despair. At length I bethought me of applying to my companion. “Talbot,” I said, “you have an opera-glass. Let me have it.”

      “An opera-glass!—no!—what do you suppose I would be doing with an
      opera-glass?” Here he turned impatiently toward the stage. “But, Talbot,” I continued, pulling him by the shoulder, “listen
      to me will you? Do you see the stage-box?—there!—no, the next.—
      Did you ever behold as lovely a woman?”

      “She is very beautiful, no doubt,” he said. “I wonder who she can be?”

      “Why, in the name of all that is angelic, don’t you know who she
      is? ‘Not to know her argues yourself unknown.’ She is the
      celebrated Madame Lalande—the beauty of the day par excellence,
      and the talk of the whole town. Immensely wealthy too—a widow,
      and a great match—has just arrived from Paris.”

      “Do you know her?”

      “Yes; I have the honor.”

      “Will you introduce me?”

      “Assuredly, with the greatest pleasure; when shall it be?”

      “To-morrow, at one, I will call upon you at B—’s.”

      “Very good; and now do hold your tongue, if you can.”

      In this latter respect I was forced to take Talbot’s advice; for
      he remained obstinately deaf to every further question or
      suggestion, and occupied himself exclusively for the rest of the
      evening with what was transacting upon the stage. In the meantime I kept my eyes riveted on Madame Lalande, and at
      length had the good fortune to obtain a full front view of her
      face. It was exquisitely lovely—this, of course, my heart had
      told me before, even had not Talbot fully satisfied me upon the
      point—but still the unintelligible something disturbed me. I
      finally concluded that my senses were impressed by a certain air
      of gravity, sadness, or, still more properly, of weariness, which
      took something from the youth and freshness of the countenance,
      only to endow it with a seraphic tenderness and majesty, and
      thus, of course, to my enthusiastic and romantic temperment, with
      an interest tenfold. While I thus feasted my eyes, I perceived, at last, to my great
      trepidation, by an almost imperceptible start on the part of the
      lady, that she had become suddenly aware of the intensity of my
      gaze. Still, I was absolutely fascinated, and could not withdraw
      it, even for an instant. She turned aside her face, and again I
      saw only the chiselled contour of the back portion of the head. After some minutes, as if urged by curiosity to see if I was
      still looking, she gradually brought her face again around and
      again encountered my burning gaze. Her large dark eyes fell
      instantly, and a deep blush mantled her cheek. But what was my
      astonishment at perceiving that she not only did not a second
      time avert her head, but that she actually took from her girdle a
      double eyeglass—elevated it—adjusted it—and then regarded me
      through it, intently and deliberately, for the space of several
      minutes. Had a thunderbolt fallen at my feet I could not have been more
      thoroughly astounded—astounded only—not offended or disgusted in
      the slightest degree; although an action so bold in any other
      woman would have been likely to offend or disgust. But the whole
      thing was done with so much quietude—so much nonchalance—so much
      repose—with so evident an air of the highest breeding, in
      short—that nothing of mere effrontery was perceptible, and my
      sole sentiments were those of admiration and surprise. I observed that, upon her first elevation of the glass, she had
      seemed satisfied with a momentary inspection of my person, and
      was withdrawing the instrument, when, as if struck by a second
      thought, she resumed it, and so continued to regard me with fixed
      attention for the space of several minutes—for five minutes, at
      the very least, I am sure. This action, so remarkable in an American theatre, attracted very
      general observation, and gave rise to an indefinite movement, or
      buzz, among the audience, which for a moment filled me with
      confusion, but produced no visible effect upon the countenance of
      Madame Lalande. Having satisfied her curiosity—if such it was—she dropped the
      glass, and quietly gave her attention again to the stage; her
      profile now being turned toward myself, as before. I continued to
      watch her unremittingly, although I was fully conscious of my
      rudeness in so doing. Presently I saw the head slowly and
      slightly change its position; and soon I became convinced that
      the lady, while pretending to look at the stage was, in fact,
      attentively regarding myself. It is needless to say what effect
      this conduct, on the part of so fascinating a woman, had upon my
      excitable mind. Having thus scrutinized me for perhaps a quarter of an hour, the
      fair object of my passion addressed the gentleman who attended
      her, and while she spoke, I saw distinctly, by the glances of
      both, that the conversation had reference to myself. Upon its conclusion, Madame Lalande again turned toward the
      stage, and, for a few minutes, seemed absorbed in the
      performance. At the expiration of this period, however, I was
      thrown into an extremity of agitation by seeing her unfold, for
      the second time, the eye-glass which hung at her side, fully
      confront me as before, and, disregarding the renewed buzz of the
      audience, survey me, from head to foot, with the same miraculous
      composure which had previously so delighted and confounded my
      soul. This extraordinary behavior, by throwing me into a perfect fever
      of excitement—into an absolute delirium of love—served rather to
      embolden than to disconcert me.