"Mees Stanley is ver good. I have say so always. But it was to M. Gerald Pierre bring ze secours. Does he notting? Go all his money to buy la carte?"--with a shrug which rather outraged Mrs. Bunce, who claimed much deference from the lower orders.
"My nephew will see your son comes to no harm," she said. Just a little loftily. "Set your mind at rest as to that; but Miss Stanley insists on bearing all the expense. She looks on your son as having got into difficulty through defending her niece; and indeed the young man himself, as he was being led away, said he would have done far more than that for the sake of Miss Muriel. We talked about him all through supper, when they got home--I did not go to the tobogganing myself--and we all said it was so nice of him. Depend on it, he will be no loser in the end----"
"For Mees Muriel? Always Mees Muriel! My Pierre shut up for her! Sainte Vierge! Have pity on a wife and mother malheureuse!--ah!--And was it me who brought her there! Serpenteau! Que tu m'as broui les yeux par ta vue! Que tu as niaisé le cœur de ton frère légitime!"
"Speak English, my good woman. What is it you say? You seem to have some ground of complaint against Miss Stanley's niece."
"She is not niece of Mees Stanley. She is enfante trouvée."
"What sort of an infant? But why do you say she is not Miss Stanley's niece? She is the daughter of Miss Stanley's brother. Surely a lady like Miss Stanley must know who are members of her own family. Why! Mr. Bunce is her first cousin."
"Vous vous trompez, madame. Vous vous l'imaginez la niece----"
"Speak English, please."
"You imagine yourself the niece----"
"I do nothing of the kind. Betsey! I think this poor soul is losing her wits with grief for her boy. What shall we do?--Call your uncle."