“I thought you only cared for married women?” remarked the lawyer.
“Neither do I care for anybody else,” said the Frenchman; “but you know our girls, who have nothing to do but to walk Broadway in the forenoon, and to go to a party in the evening, govern society; and, if one does not wish to be considered an absolute boor, one must humour them.”
“Then you consider your civility a mere act of duty,—a sacrifice brought to society?”
“Precisely so; and in the same light it is viewed by Miss L***.”
“The d—l take your attention then! When I want to pay my court to a woman, I do not want to do so in public.”
“Miss L***, I assure you, courts nothing but satin velvet and gros de Naples. She will to-day, with her own soft hands, caress every piece of French silk which has passed the Hook for a week past; and I shall have the honour of accompanying her to every fashionable shop in Broadway.”
“Delightful occupation this!” exclaimed the lawyer; “I had rather read law.”
“Or drink juleps,” cried the Philadelphian.
“Or play cards,” said the New-Yorker.
“Or go to meeting,” added the Bostonian.