“Very well. Will you attend to it?”
Just then came the sound of voices and the rustle of draperies in the little hall.
“Hello! Ladies?” said Le Grand. “This is to be one of what Lispenard calls your ‘often, frequently, only once’ affairs, is it?”
“I’m afraid we are early,” said Mrs. D’Alloi. “We did not know how much time to allow.”
“No. Such old friends cannot come too soon.”
“And as it is, I’m really starved,” said another personage, shaking hands with Peter as if she had not seen him for a twelve-month instead of parting with him but two hours before. “What an appetite riding in the Park does give one! Especially when afterwards you drive, and drive, and drive, over New York stones.”
“Ah,” cried Madame. “C’est tres bien!”
“Isn’t it jolly?” responded Leonore.
“But it is not American. It is Parisian.”
“Oh, no, it isn’t! It’s all American. Isn’t it, Peter?”