Sunny. I dare say, now, that in Europe you have never met any lady more beautiful in person, or more polished in manners, than that girl.
George. You are right, sir; though I shrank from expressing that opinion in her presence, so bluntly.
Sunny. Why so?
George. It may be considered offensive.
Sunny. [Astonished.] What? I say, Zoe, do you hear that?
Dora. Mr. Peyton is joking.
Mrs. P. [L. C.] My nephew is not acquainted with our customs in Louisiana, but he will soon understand.
George. Never, aunt! I shall never understand how to wound the feelings of any lady; and, if that is the custom here, I shall never acquire it.
Dora. Zoe, my dear, what does he mean?
Zoe. I don't know.