Madame B* * * stopped short, and looked at me as if expecting that I should make some observation.
"Well?" said I.
"Well!" she repeated, laughing; "then you really find nothing extraordinary in this proceeding—nothing out of the common way?"
"In what respect?" said I: "what is it that you suppose was out of the common way?"
"That question," said she, clasping her hands in an ecstasy at having made the discovery—"That question puts me more au fait than anything else you could say to me. It is the strongest possible proof that what happened to my cousin was in truth nothing more than what is of every-day occurrence in England."
"What did happen to him?"
"Have I not told you?... The father of the young ladies whom he so greatly admired, selected one of them and desired my cousin to attend her on an excursion into the woods. My dear madame ... national manners vary so strangely.... I beseech you not to suppose that I imagine that everything may not be exceedingly well arranged notwithstanding. My cousin is a very distinguished young man—excellent character—good name—and will have his father's estate ... only the manner is so different...."
"Did your cousin accompany the young lady?" said I.
"No, he did not—he returned to London immediately."
This was said so gravely—so more than gravely—with an air of so much more meaning than she thought it civil to express, that my gravity and politeness gave way together, and I laughed most heartily.