"They are foreigners," said Mr. Collins, directing his glass towards Harriet and the Conde.
"Is he not handsome?" asked the lady.
"I think the girl the best looking," returned the young man.
"No—do you? Fan me, Collins, there's a good soul."
Mr. Collins unfurled her fan, fringed with swansdown, and proceeded to fan the "large lady."
"Is there any one here one knows?" said the lady, turning her head a little towards the elderly man.
"No, my dear, I think not," he replied.
"Ah, dear Paris!" said the lady, with a powerful sigh.
"Ah!" returned Mr. Collins.