"Your Queen likes riding! That is a miracle!" said the old lady.
"I do not like it at all—it makes me so sore," said her companion; "but you Franks are wonderful people, and your women seem to do what they like!"
"Would not you like to do the same?" I inquired.
"A woman's place is to stay at home, and look after the children," said my host's mother gravely.
"Do not the husbands in England often become jealous of their wives?" inquired my host,—"and the wives of their husbands?" interrupted the old lady.
"Yes, sometimes."
"Well, there is a great deal to be said on both sides of the question," observed the Armenian. "It will be a long time before we follow you in all your customs."
"You have places in your country where the men and women meet and dance together in the same way as our gipsies dance—at least so I have been told," remarked my host's wife.
"Not exactly like your gipsies," I replied; "but we have what are called balls, where men and women meet and dance together."
"The husband with his own wife?"