"There; didn't I say that you were a most excellent little person, always knowing the correct thing, and all the rest of it!"
"Is it wrong of me to be like that?"
"Oh, no! it is not wrong—on the contrary! only it is a trifle embarrassing. Tell me, now that I have made this mistake in speaking to you first, will you give me an answer? or must I set to work to put matters right again, by applying now to grandmamma, who in her turn will apply to you, etc., etc."
"No, I will give you my answer."
"Well, then, let me finish my rigmarole. Count Henry de Bracieux was born on the 22nd of January, 1870. His entire fortune, until after the death of his grandmother, consists of twenty-four thousand pounds, which amount brings in—"
"Oh! you needn't trouble to tell me about money matters; in the first place, they don't interest me, and then, as I do not wish to marry Henry, it is useless to tell me all that!"
"Ah! you do not wish to marry him! Why?"
"For several reasons, the best of which is that I know him too well."
"It certainly is not very flattering, this reason of yours!"
"I mean what I said just now, that, living with Henry as I have done for the last four years, I consider him as a brother."