“Gone out to give a lesson, also,” replied I. “Yes, he’s like the wind, always blowing, one hour the flute, another the French horn, then the bassoon or the bugle, always blowing and always shifting from one point to the other; never a calm with him, for when he comes home there’s a breeze with his wife, à l’aimable, to be sure.”
“Yes,” replied Caroline, “always blowing, but never coming to blows.”
“You are witty, Mademoiselle Caroline,” said Adèle, “with your paradox. Do you know that I had an adventure at Brighton, and I am taken for you, by a very fashionable young man?”
“How can you have been taken for me?” said Caroline. “The gentleman wished to find out who I was, and I would not tell him. He inquired of the chambermaid of the lodging-house, and bribed her, I presume, for the next day she came up to my room and asked me for my card, that her mistress might write my name down correctly in the book. I knew that the mistress had not sent her, as I had, by her request, entered my own name in the book three days before, and I was therefore certain that it was to find out who I was for the gentleman who followed me everywhere. I recollected that I had a card of yours in my case, and I gave it to her very quietly, and she walked off with it. The next day, when I was at the library, the gentleman addressed me by your name; I told him that it was not my name, and requested that he would not address me again. When I left Brighton yesterday, I discovered the chambermaid copying the addresses I had put on my trunks, which was your name, at Mrs Bradshaw’s; so now I think we shall have some fun.”
“But, my dear Adèle, you have not been prudent; you may compromise Caroline very much,” said I; “recollect that men talk, and something unpleasant may occur from this want of discretion on your part.”
“Be not afraid, Valerie; I conducted myself with such prudery that an angel’s character could not suffer.”
“I do not mean to hint otherwise, Adèle, but still you must acknowledge that you have done an imprudent thing.”
“Well, I do confess it, but, Valerie, every one has not your discretion and good sense. At all events, if I see or hear any more of the gentleman I can undo it again,—but that is not very likely.”
“We have had two gentlemen here to-day, Adèle,” said Caroline, “and one dines with us.”
“Indeed; well, I’m in demi-toilette, and must remain so, for I cannot go all the way back to Mrs Bradshaw’s to dress.”