“She says she might marry him any day:
he only waits her consent.”
“It is these tales which have caused that reserve
in your manner towards Graham which your father noticed.”
“They have certainly made me all doubtful about
his character. As Ginevra speaks, they do not
carry with them the sound of unmixed truth: I
believe she exaggerates—perhaps invents—but
I want to know how far.”
“Suppose we bring Miss Fanshawe to some proof.
Give her an opportunity of displaying the power she
boasts.”
“I could do that to-morrow. Papa has asked
some gentlemen to dinner, all savants. Graham,
who, papa is beginning to discover, is a savant, too—skilled,
they say, in more than one branch of science—is
among the number. Now I should be miserable to
sit at table unsupported, amidst such a party.
I could not talk to Messieurs A——
and Z——, the Parisian Academicians:
all my new credit for manner would be put in peril.
You and Mrs. Bretton must come for my sake; Ginevra,
at a word, will join you.”
“Yes; then I will carry a message of invitation,
and she shall have the chance of justifying her character
for veracity.”
THE HOTEL CRECY.
The morrow turned out a more lively and busy day than
we—or than I, at least-had anticipated.
It seems it was the birthday of one of the young princes
of Labassecour-the eldest, I think, the Duc de Dindonneau,
and a general holiday was given in his honour at the
schools, and especially at the principal “Athenee,”
or college. The youth of that institution had
also concocted, and were to present a loyal address;
for which purpose they were to be assembled in the
public building where the yearly examinations were
conducted, and the prizes distributed. After
the ceremony of presentation, an oration, or “discours,”
was to follow from one of the professors.
Several of M. de Bassompierre’s friends-the
savants-being more or less connected with the Athenee,
they were expected to attend on this occasion; together
with the worshipful municipality of Villette, M. le
Chevalier Staas, the burgomaster, and the parents and
kinsfolk of the Athenians in general. M. de Bassompierre
was engaged by his friends to accompany them; his
fair daughter would, of course, be of the party, and
she wrote a little note to Ginevra and myself, bidding
us come early that we might join her.
As Miss Fanshawe and I were dressing in the dormitory
of the Rue Fossette, she (Miss F.) suddenly burst
into a laugh.
“What now?” I asked; for she had suspended
the operation of arranging her attire, and was gazing
at me.
“It seems so odd,” she replied, with her
usual half-honest half-insolent unreserve, “that
you and I should now be so much on a level, visiting
in the same sphere; having the same connections.”
“Why, yes,” said I; “I had not much
respect for the connections you chiefly frequented
awhile ago: Mrs. Cholmondeley and Co. would never
have suited me at all.”
