"May I tell you something Queen?"
"Ha! You mischief, what have you to confess now?"
"I have invited a man to call here," replied Dora suddenly raising her head, and speaking with a different touch in her tones.
"Is that all?" laughed Emily, "Who is the monster? Where did you meet him?"
"I have met him several times, at afternoon teas. The last time he asked me if he might call—and I told him he could do so this afternoon, when I thought you would be at home. Was it very wrong?"
"Well, Dora, I don't think it was exactly proper, but perhaps it may be all right, since you have met him at several of our friends' houses. But what is his name?"
"Alphonse Thauret."
"A Frenchman?"
"Yes, though he speaks English with only a very slight accent."
"I don't like Frenchmen. I know it is preposterous prejudice but I never meet one without thinking him a possible adventurer. With their soft sycophantic ways, they remind me of cats, and I expect them to show their claws at any moment. However, pet, perhaps your Frenchman will not call, and then——"