After a journey of three hours, the steamboat approached Geneva; sweeping to the left into its broad bay. The lake shimmered as from millions of diamonds, and the great white lady—Mont Blanc—elevated herself on the northern shore, in shining white attire, in great state with all her court of ice-shapes, pyramids, walls, and towers, under the bright blue heaven, in the blazing sun it was splendid!
An hour later I was sitting in a light and handsome room, up three flights of stairs, in the Bourg du Four, with a view of Mount Saleve and the Botanic Garden. A kind and educated lady, the widow of one of the distinguished teachers of the University, provided me there with a quiet and friendly home.
The Countess de Gasparin, known as a clever authoress, and especially for her work on marriage, paid me a visit the day after my arrival. This was amiable of her. She is an agreeable blondine, still young, with refined features—on the whole, a lovable person, with French ease of demeanor and facility of expression, very loquacious, and somewhat decided in manner. We were soon disputing on more subjects than people can discuss in many conversations. But it mattered not. One may like, and even become attached to, those with whom one cannot agree. And I liked the Countess of Gasparin for her candor and amiability, and I accepted with sincere pleasure her invitation to her country-house near Geneva. I was also rather curious to become acquainted with the Count de Gasparin, the man who had made her an enthusiast for marriage. For such she is; maintains that all women ought to
