“Well, any one can see that you’re an American girl,” Miss Ruck remarked, in a consolatory manner. “I can tell an American girl a mile off. You’ve got the American style.”
“I’m afraid I haven’t the American toilette,” said Aurora, looking at the other’s superior splendour.
“Well, your dress was cut in France; any one can see that.”
“Yes,” said Aurora, with a laugh, “my dress was cut in France—at Avranches.”
“Well, you’ve got a lovely figure, any way,” pursued her companion.
“Ah,” said the young girl, “at Avranches, too, my figure was admired.” And she looked at me askance, with a certain coquetry. But I was an innocent youth, and I only looked back at her, wondering. She was a great deal nicer than Miss Ruck, and yet Miss Ruck would not have said that. “I try to be like an American girl,” she continued; “I do my best, though mamma doesn’t at all encourage it. I am very patriotic. I try to copy them, though mamma has brought me up à la française; that is, as much as one can in pensions. For instance, I have never been out of the house without mamma; oh, never, never. But sometimes I despair; American girls are so wonderfully frank. I can’t be frank, like that. I am always afraid. But I do what I can, as you see. Excusez du peu!”
I thought this young lady at least as outspoken as most of her unexpatriated sisters; there was something almost comical in her despondency. But she had by no means caught, as it seemed to me, the American tone. Whatever her tone was, however, it had a fascination; there was something dainty about it, and yet it was decidedly audacious.
The young ladies began to stroll about the garden again, and I enjoyed their society until M. Pigeonneau’s festival came to an end.
CHAPTER V.
Mr. Ruck did not take his departure for Appenzell on the morrow, in spite of the eagerness to witness such an event which he had attributed to Mrs. Church. He continued, on the contrary, for many days after, to hang about the garden, to wander up to the banker’s and back again, to engage in desultory conversation with his fellow-boarders, and to endeavour to assuage his constitutional restlessness by perusal of the American journals. But on the morrow I had the honour of making Mrs. Church’s acquaintance. She came into the salon, after the midday breakfast, with her German octavo under her arm, and she appealed to me for assistance in selecting a quiet corner.