"So den you condemn us all, I suppose, who do not keep de Sunday stupidly à la façon Angloise? Vill you tell me now, Milor, vat you tink one may do on a Sunday? I suppose you would not hang your cat, par exemple, if she killed her mouse on Sunday, vould you?"
Lord Albert D'Esterre looked still more cold and grave, as he drew himself up and leant against the back of the box, saying, that "it was an unfitting time and place for such discussions, and that he begged to be excused from entering upon them." Then bending forward to Lady Tilney, who had remained silent, and saying a few words to her, he bowed and retired.
"Il est farouche et fanfaron au possible," cried the Comtesse Leinsengen, as he closed the door; "after to-night I have done vid him."
"He is only original; and it will be a great thing to soften his little prejudices, and teach him to enjoy existence under your tuition, if it were possible," said Sir William, making as low a bow as his embonpoint would permit, "'to soften knotted oaks, and bend the rocks,' it would be done—"
Lady Tilney smiled at the mis-quotation, while the Comtesse Leinsengen added in a tone of impatience: "but Miladi, do vat she vill, cannot make a bore agreeable; but, ah!" turning round, "dere is Milor Baskerville, how glad I am to have something humanized to talk to! Milor, we have just had a saint in our box; do you not smell de odour of sanctity very strong?"
"I am at a loss to know your meaning, Comtesse—pray explain;" and when she did so, he replied; "Hem! from the first moment I saw him, I suspected that stiff unnatural sort of manner had something sinister, (hem!) I hope I am not worse than my neighbours, (hem!) but whenever I hear any thing approaching to cant (hem!) I fly from it, (hem!) as I would from all that I hold most detestable; (hem!) besides, since his conduct to Tonnerre, I have considered him (hem!) hardly in the light of a gentleman. (hem!) You heard, Comtesse, did you not, of that affair? (hem!)"
"No, vat affaire you speak of?"
"Oh, you know he nearly caused Tonnerre a most serious accident, and (hem!) his favourite horse Chester, it is feared, is entirely ruined."
"No, I never heard one word of it, vat was it for?"—"Why, Tonnerre (hem!) was riding up gently to speak (hem!) to Lady Hamlet Vernon in the Park, (hem!) my Lord Albert D'Esterre, who was by her carriage, (hem!) chose to turn his horse short round, and to shew his horsemanship, spurred the animal, who plunged and kicked, and (hem!) Tonnerre's horse was driven against the carriage and reared, and fell back—(hem!) and—"
"And what did de oder Milor do—did he tumble off?"