The lecture over, I had retired with the chairman to the committee-room. Immediately after, a lady presented herself at the door and asked the chairman to introduce me to her.
After the usual salutations and compliments, the worthy lady said to me pointblank:
"You are not a Frenchman; I knew you were an Englishman."
"I am afraid the compliment is a little exaggerated," I responded; "certainly you cannot make me believe that I speak English so well as to pass for an Englishman."
"Oh! that is not it," she said; "but at the end of your lecture you gave us a French quotation with a very strong English accent."
I begged the lady to excuse me, as "I had a train to catch."
CHAPTER XIII.
Drollery of Scotch Phraseology.—A Scotchman who Lost his Head.—Two Severe Wounds.—Premature Death.—A Neat Comparison.—Cold Comfort.
