Here she burst out laughing again; while the poor Sennaar Ambassador stood erect, and utterly confounded by what was going on.
“I’m sure—I didn’t know—I didn’t—I wouldn’t—Mrs. Gnu knows;” said he, in the greatest embarrassment. “I beg your pardon sincerely, madame.” And he looked so humble and repentant that I was really sorry for him; but I saw Mr. Firkin laughing afresh every time he looked at the Ambassador, as if he saw something sly behind his penitence.
“Perhaps,” said Firkin at last, “Kurz Pacha means to say that to offer flowers to a lady who has already so beautiful a bouquet, would be to carry coals to Newcastle.”
“That is it,” cried the Pacha; “to Newcastle,”—and he bowed to Mrs. Gnu.
“Come, Mrs. Gnu, it’s only a mistake,” said Mrs. Potiphar.
But Mrs. Gnu looked rather angry still, although Gauche Boosey tried very hard to console her, saying as many bon mots as he could think of—and you know how witty he is. He said at last;
“Why is Mrs. Gnu like Rachel?”
“Rachel who?” asked I. — I’m sure it was an innocent question; but they all fell to laughing again, and Mr. Firkin positively cried with fun.
“D’ye give it up?” asked Mr. Boosey.
“Yes,” said Mrs. Potiphar.