“Indeed, I shall not know how to tear myself away! I have met with such kindness, and feel myself quite at home in consequence.”
“Your charm of manner has swept all before it,” said Mr. Westruther. “I am for ever being asked who is my delightful French acquaintance, and where he comes from.”
“Ah, this is some of the taquinerie for which you are famous, I think!”
“Not at all. I am sure the friends you have made in England are legion. Now, who was it who wished to know only the other day where you had hidden yourself? Hoped you had not fallen a victim to the influenza—Yes, of course! it was Lady Maria Yalding! To have made such a conquest as that is something indeed!”
“I cannot flatter myself so grossly,” responded the Chevalier quietly. “But you remind me of my obligations, sir: Lady Maria has been most kind, and I must not neglect her.”
“Just so,” agreed Mr. Westruther. “One sees the temptation, of course, but it would be folly not to withstand it.”
“I understand you, I suppose,” the Chevalier said after a moment, and in a mortified tone.
“I feel sure you do: so quick-witted, you Frenchmen! You must forgive my meddling: since I had the pleasure of bringing you and your cousin together I must think myself in some sort responsible for you. I should dislike excessively to see you tumble into one of the pitfalls with which society is so amply provided. Always so difficult for a foreigner to recognize them, isn’t it?”
“Do you mean to indicate, sir, that we have just left one of these pitfalls?” asked the Chevalier, taking the bull by the horns.
“Why, yes!” said Mr. Westruther, pulling up for the turnpike. “Charming, of course—quite the most ravishingly lovely little ladybird in town!—but no fortune, my dear d’Evron, and a mother who is a veritable harpy!”