“There’s no gentleman,” she cried, “to come into my parlour. It is not permit. When he comes I will have it locked up.”
O, ho, my poor careful canon! thought I. However, soon after a tap again at my door introduced him. He said he had been waiting below in the passage, as he saw Madame Schwellenberg in the parlour, and did not care to have her know him; but his business was to settle bringing M. de Lalande to see me in the evening. I told him I was much honoured, and so forth, but that I received no evening company, as I was officially engaged.
He had made the appointment, he said, and could not break it without affronting him; besides, he gave me to understand it would be an honour to me for ever to be visited by so great an astronomer. I agreed as to that, and was forced, moreover, to agree to all the rest, no resource remaining.
I mentioned to her majesty the state of the case. She thought the canon very officious, and disapproved the arrangement, but saw it was unavoidable.
But when the dinner came I was asked by the présidente, “What for send you gentlemen to my parlour?”
“I was dressing, ma’am, and could not possibly receive company in mine, and thought the other empty.”
“Empty or full is the same! I won’t have it. I will lock up the room when it is done so. No, no, I won’t have no gentlemen here; it is not permit, perticklere when they von’t not speak to me!”
I then heard that “a large man, what you call,” had entered that sacred domain, and seeing there a lady, had quitted it “bob short!”
I immediately explained all that had passed, for I had no other way to save myself from an imputation of favouring the visits and indiscretion of this most gallant canon.
“Vell, when he comes so often he might like you. For what won’t you not marry him?”