"Well, yes; M. Le Gros explained that the proposition was not selon les règles, and it does not matter the least in the world."
"M. Le Gros has explained that? I did not know that M. Le Gros had explained anything."
"Well, then, he looked it," said Rachel.
"His looks must be wonderfully expressive. He did not look it to me at all. He simply told me, as one of the managers of the theatre, I was to let you have whatever money you wanted. And he did whisper to me,—may I tell you what he whispered?"
"I suppose you may. He seems to me to be a very good-natured kind of man."
"Poor old Le Gros! A very good-natured man, I should say. He doesn't carry the house, that's all."
"You do that." Then she remembered that the man was a lord. "I ought to have said 'my lord,'" she said; "but I forgot. I hope you'll excuse me—my lord."
"We are not very particular about that in theatrical matters; or, rather, I am particular with some and not with others. You'll learn all about it in process of time. M. Le Gros whispered that he thought there was not the pleasantest understanding in the world between you and the people here."
"Well, no; there is not,—my lord."
"Bother the lord,—just now."