“‘She is an angel still,’ said I, with a frown, for I would not suffer so much of aspersion against her.
“‘Sans doute,’ chimed in Virginie, with a shrug of her shoulders, ‘we are all angels, after a fashion;’ and I endeavored to smile a concurrence with this sentiment, in which I only half assented.
“By wonderful skill and cross-questioning, I at last obtained the following information: Lady Blanche was on a voyage of health, intending to visit the remarkable places in the Mediterranean, and then winter at some chosen spot upon its shores. Why she journeyed thus unprotected, was a secret there was no fathoming by indirect inquiry, and any other would have been an act of indelicacy.
“‘We will pass the winter at Naples, or Palermo, or Jerusalem, or some other watering-place,’ said Virginie, for her geography was, after all, only a lady’s-maid’s accomplishment.
“‘You must persuade her to visit Egypt, Virginie,’ said I,—‘Egypt, Virginie,—the land of the Pyramids. Induce her to do this, and to behold the wonders of the strangest country in the universe. Even now,’ said I, ‘Arab life—’
“‘Ah, oui. I have seen the Arabs at the Vaudeville; they have magnificent beards.’
“‘The handsomest men in the world.’
“‘Pas mal,’ said she, with a sententious nod there’s no converting into words.
“‘Well, Virginie, think of Cairo, think of Bagdad. You have read the Arabian Nights—have n’t you?’
“‘Yes,’ said she, with a yawn, ‘they are passées; now, what would you have us do in this droll old place?’