“Too expensive, Henri? No, my darling boy; follow my advice, and the richest and fairest of the daughters of France shall sue for your hand.”
“I say, auntie,” he said laughingly, “aren’t you laying on the colour rather thick?”
“Not a bit, my darling; and that’s why I want to talk to you about your sister’s friend.”
“What, Maddy?” he said eagerly; “then you approve of it.”
“Approve! Pah! you are jesting, my dear. I approve of your making an alliance with a fat Dutch fraulein!”
“Oh, come, aunt!” said Harry, looking nettled; “Madelaine is not Dutch, nor yet fat.”
“I know better, my boy. Dutch! Dutch! Dutch! Look at her father and her mother! No, my boy, you could not make an alliance with a girl like that. She might do for a kitchen-maid.”
“Auntie!”
“Silly boy!”
“And she’ll be rich some day.”