"You don't think she'd like a little dog as well?" suggested Sir Horace facetiously, as he eyed some black Spitz puppies, which were being hawked about hard by.
"No, I fancy Miss Chandos finds one dog enough, to go on with."
His uncle gave a loud harsh laugh as they moved away, each carrying a superb bunch of La France roses.
Madame de Godez and her niece were at déjeûner when the two bouquets made their appearance. To be perfectly correct, Miss Chandos had finished and was busy with a pencil and paper; but her aunt was still actively engaged.
"What do you think of Sir Horace's nephew, Verona?" she enquired, as she turned over the flowers and sniffed at them.
"Oh," looking up from her writing, "he is not bad."
"Bad—not bad! whatt a girl to talk so! Why he is very good-looking."
"Yes, I suppose he is; and it is rather a relief to meet with a stranger who has never been here before, and does not know anyone, or even his way about. I declare his ignorance is quite refreshing!"
"O—ah! he will not be long ignorant," replied Madame, squeezing up her eyes, "his uncle is worldly wise. He will educate him!"
"Oh, auntie, you know you promised Dr. Krauss you would not touch fruit and cream, and you have had two helpings, besides macaroni and fish. You really must not be so foolish."