“Eh bien!” Madame cried gaily. “For the choke. Avec vous, Monsieur Jack. Ha! ha! Allons! Come along!”
“Link, Madame,” said Jack, as they came down-stairs, Madame smarter than ever, and bouquet in hand.
“Mais link? What is this?” said she.
“Take my arm,” said Jack. “I’ll treat you to everything.”
“Mais treat? What is that?” said Madame, whose beaming good-humour only expanded the more when Jack explained that it was a pecuniary attention shown by rustic swains to their “young women.”
As Clement came into the hall he met Madame hanging on Jack’s arm, and absolutely radiant.
“You’re not going into that beastly place again?” said he.
“For the choke, Monsieur Clement. Ah, oui! And with Monsieur Jack.”
“You may as well come, Clem,” said Eleanor, and we followed, laughing.
Madame had now no time for discontent. Jack held her fast. He gave her gingerbread at one stall, and gingerbeer at another, and cracked nuts for her all along. He vowed that the oyster-shells were flowers, and the empty bottles bouquet-holders, and offered to buy her a pair of spectacles to see matters more clearly with.