"I am not an officer of justice, ma belle!" said Lady Ingram, laughing faintly. "Ah, well! a visit let it be. You will come with me—for a visit—on Thursday?"
"I will attend your Ladyship."
"You live near, Madam?" asked Madam Passmore, wondering whether she could live so far away as the next county.
"I live in France," was the unconcerned answer,—"in Paris in the winter, and not far thence in the summer."
The Squire almost gasped for breath. "And where is your summer dwelling, Madam? I think, if you please, that I have a right to ask."
"Oh! certainly. At St. Germain-en-Laye."
"St. fiddlesticks-and-fiddlestrings!" roared the Squire.
"Sir!" observed Lady Ingram, apparently a little startled at last.
"Pope, Pretender, and Devil!" thundered the exasperated Whig.
"Ah! I only know one of the three," said Lady Ingram, subsiding.