'Umph—egad—do I?'
'She often speaks to me of you, uncle.'
'Does she? I am greatly honoured.'
'Yes—and seems to know all about you, and your brilliant services to their Mightinesses the States, and so forth.'
'The devil she does! Well, she probably knows also that I never was a lady's man—a lady-killer, a buck, or a blood in my time; so my lady countess may spare her breath to cool her porridge. And who is this Countess van Renslaer? Her name sounds new to me.'
'She has but lately come to Holland.'
'From where?'
'England last, I believe; and none seem to take a higher place at the Court of the Prince of Orange; at the balls of the Grand Pensionary, and of the richest burgers in the Hague and Amsterdam.'
'Ouf! Well, I go to none of them—not even to Court, save once a year, to kiss the Prince's hand, and give in the Brigade Reports. She has a great retinue—keeps a stately coach and two sedans, I hear; and does this artful old—countess seem to tolerate the advances of a penniless sub like you, to her daughter?'
'Yes.'