Miss Mangles dispensed her brother's hospitality with that rather labored ease of manner to which superior women are liable at such times as they are pleased to desire their inferiors to feel comfortable, and to enjoy themselves according to their lights.
Deulin perceived the situation at once, and sought information respecting Poland, which was most graciously accorded him.
“And you have actually walked through the Jewish quarter?” he said, noting, with the tail of his eye, that Cartoner was absent-minded.
“I entered the Franciszkanska near the old church of St. John, and traversed the whole length of the street.”
“And you formed an opinion upon the Semitic question in this country?” asked the Frenchman, earnestly.
“I have.”
And Deulin turned to his salmon, while Miss Mangles swept away in a few chosen phrases the difficulties that have puzzled statesmen for fifteen hundred years.
“I shall read a paper upon it at one of our historical Women's Congress meetings—and I may publish,” she said.
“It would be in the interests of humanity,” murmured Deulin, politely. “It would add to the . . . wisdom of the nations.”
Across the table Netty was doing her best to make her uncle's guest happy, seeking to please him in a thousand ways, which need not be described.