I replied that I was very well satisfied with it.
"But you don't know what their messes are made of. For my part I like to know what, I eat," observed the discontented brother on my right, "and you don't mean surely, sir, to say that such as they gave us was anything to compare to a good English dinner."
That, I remarked, was entirely an affair of taste; that I myself was most partial to the simpler mode of living of the English, but not so the high aristocracy of our country, with whom French cooks are in the greatest estimation.
"I was very much pleased with the vin ordinaire, as they call it, and found it a pleasant light wine, particularly agreeable when one is thirsty," said Good Humour.
"Light enough at any rate," returned Discontent, "and well named vin ordinaire, for ordinary it is in every sense of the word, pretty much like themselves for that; but if you like to have any when we are in England, I'll make you some; take a little port wine, put some vinegar and a good deal of water with it and there you have it at once; is not that your opinion, sir?"
I replied, that I considered it a beverage well adapted for a sort of draught wine, but that it certainly had not the body that foreign wines have that we are in the habit of drinking in England.
Good Humour not appearing to relish his brother's receipt for making vin ordinaire, changed the subject, by observing that a woman who was standing at the door of an auberge where we were stopping had a very fine expression of countenance, although rather thin and pale, but that there was a pensive cast which prevailed throughout her features and rendered the tout ensemble interesting.
"Oh very fine, indeed," said Discontent, with a sarcastic smile, "as complete a picture of skin and grief as one could wish to see. Pray, sir, is she one of your beauties?"
I admitted that her appearance was rather pleasing, but that beauty was out of the question, nor did I understand his brother to have made any remark conveying the idea that she possessed that charm so truly rare.
"What a delightful house and garden," exclaimed. Good Humour, as we passed by a residence, that had rather an inviting appearance; "now, is it not an agreeable spot to live in," he continued, as he turned to me with a look, so assured of confirmation on my part, that I could not find it in my heart to disappoint him. But as I was about to answer, Discontent grumbled out a few words, which I think were to the effect, that where the country was so hideously frightful, that any thing that was decent attracted notice, but that the same object in England would not have been regarded; asking me if I had ever travelled through a more ugly country in my life.