Here, in imitation of Malibran, she modified the original phrase
      of Bellini, so as to let her voice descend to the tenor G, when,
      by a rapid transition, she struck the G above the treble stave,
      springing over an interval of two octaves. Upon rising from the piano after these miracles of vocal
      execution, she resumed her seat by my side; when I expressed to
      her, in terms of the deepest enthusiasm, my delight at her
      performance. Of my surprise I said nothing, and yet was I most
      unfeignedly surprised; for a certain feebleness, or rather a
      certain tremulous indecision of voice in ordinary conversation,
      had prepared me to anticipate that, in singing, she would not
      acquit herself with any remarkable ability. Our conversation was now long, earnest, uninterrupted, and
      totally unreserved. She made me relate many of the earlier
      passages of my life, and listened with breathless attention to
      every word of the narrative. I concealed nothing—felt that I had
      a right to conceal nothing—from her confiding affection. Encouraged by her candor upon the delicate point of her age, I
      entered, with perfect frankness, not only into a detail of my
      many minor vices, but made full confession of those moral and
      even of those physical infirmities, the disclosure of which, in
      demanding so much higher a degree of courage, is so much surer an
      evidence of love. I touched upon my college indiscretions—upon my
      extravagances—upon my carousals—upon my debts—upon my
      flirtations. I even went so far as to speak of a slightly hectic
      cough with which, at one time, I had been troubled—of a chronic
      rheumatism—of a twinge of hereditary gout—and, in conclusion, of
      the disagreeable and inconvenient, but hitherto carefully
      concealed, weakness of my eyes. “Upon this latter point,” said Madame Lalande, laughingly, “you
      have been surely injudicious in coming to confession; for,
      without the confession, I take it for granted that no one would
      have accused you of the crime. By the by,” she continued, “have
      you any recollection—” and here I fancied that a blush, even
      through the gloom of the apartment, became distinctly visible
      upon her cheek—“have you any recollection, _mon cher ami_, of
      this little ocular assistant, which now depends from my neck?”

      As she spoke she twirled in her fingers the identical double
      eye-glass which had so overwhelmed me with confusion at the
      opera. “Full well—alas! do I remember it,” I exclaimed, pressing
      passionately the delicate hand which offered the glasses for my
      inspection. They formed a complex and magnificent toy, richly
      chased and filigreed, and gleaming with jewels, which, even in
      the deficient light, I could not help perceiving were of high
      value. “_Eh bien! mon ami_,” she resumed with a certain _empressment_ of
      manner that rather surprised me—“_Eh bien! mon ami_, you have
      earnestly besought of me a favor which you have been pleased to
      denominate priceless. You have demanded of me my hand upon the
      morrow. Should I yield to your entreaties—and, I may add, to the
      pleadings of my own bosom—would I not be entitled to demand of
      you a very—a very little boon in return?”

      “Name it!” I exclaimed with an energy that had nearly drawn upon
      us the observation of the company, and restrained by their
      presence alone from throwing myself impetuously at her feet. “Name it, my beloved, my Eugénie, my own!—name it!—but, alas! it
      is already yielded ere named.”

      “You shall conquer, then, _mon ami_,” said she, “for the sake of
      the Eugénie whom you love, this little weakness which you have at
      last confessed—this weakness more moral than physical—and which,
      let me assure you, is so unbecoming the nobility of your real
      nature—so inconsistent with the candor of your usual
      character—and which, if permitted further control, will assuredly
      involve you, sooner or later, in some very disagreeable scrape. You shall conquer, for my sake, this affectation which leads you,
      as you yourself acknowledge, to the tacit or implied denial of
      your infirmity of vision. For, this infirmity you virtually deny,
      in refusing to employ the customary means for its relief. You
      will understand me to say, then, that I wish you to wear
      spectacles;—ah, hush!—you have already consented to wear them,
      for my sake. You shall accept the little toy which I now hold in
      my hand, and which, though admirable as an aid to vision, is
      really of no very immense value as a gem. You perceive that, by a
      trifling modification thus—or thus—it can be adapted to the eyes
      in the form of spectacles, or worn in the waistcoat pocket as an
      eye-glass. It is in the former mode, however, and habitually,
      that you have already consented to wear it for my sake.”

      This request—must I confess it?—confused me in no little degree. But the condition with which it was coupled rendered hesitation,
      of course, a matter altogether out of the question. “It is done!” I cried, with all the enthusiasm that I could
      muster at the moment. “It is done—it is most cheerfully agreed. I
      sacrifice every feeling for your sake. To-night I wear this dear
      eye-glass, as an eye-glass, and upon my heart; but with the
      earliest dawn of that morning which gives me the pleasure of
      calling you wife, I will place it upon my—upon my nose,—and there
      wear it ever afterward, in the less romantic, and less
      fashionable, but certainly in the more serviceable, form which
      you desire.”

      Our conversation now turned upon the details of our arrangements
      for the morrow. Talbot, I learned from my betrothed, had just
      arrived in town. I was to see him at once, and procure a
      carriage. The _soirée_ would scarcely break up before two; and by
      this hour the vehicle was to be at the door; when, in the
      confusion occasioned by the departure of the company, Madame L.
      could easily enter it unobserved. We were then to call at the
      house of a clergyman who would be in waiting; there be married,
      drop Talbot, and proceed on a short tour to the East; leaving the
      fashionable world at home to make whatever comments upon the
      matter it thought best. Having planned all this, I immediately took leave, and went in
      search of Talbot, but, on the way, I could not refrain from
      stepping into a hotel, for the purpose of inspecting the
      miniature; and this I did by the powerful aid of the glasses. The
      countenance was a surpassingly beautiful one!