"Nor injured your dress, I trust, Madame?"
"Ah, par exemple! do I wear muslins or gauzes that they should not bear touching? No, no, no, M'sieur--thanking you all the same."
"You are very amiable, Madame, to say so."
"You are very polite, M'sieur, to think so much of a trifle."
"Nothing is a trifle, Madame, where a lady is concerned. At least, so we Englishmen consider."
"Bah! M'sieur is not English?"
"Indeed, Madame, I am."
"Mais, mon Dieu! c'est incroyable. Suzette--brother Jacques--André, do you hear this? M'sieur, here, swears that he is English, and yet he speaks French like one of ourselves! Ah, what a fine thing learning is!"
"I may say with truth, Madame, that I never appreciate the advantages of education so highly, as when they enable me to converse with ladies who are not my own countrywomen," said Dalrymple, carrying on the conversation with as much studied politeness as if his interlocutor had been a duchess. "But--excuse the observation--you are here, I imagine, upon a happy occasion?"
The mother laughed, and rubbed her hands.