“Brought up, marquise, in the most genteel and polite manner!
“I’m sure her aunt—I am, of course, her aunt—I’m sure I’m very glad to hear it.”
“Par-r-r-r-bleu! Par-r-r-r-bleu! Here you are, Sulpice, and there you are wanted.—Par-r-r-bleu!”
“Great impossibles—can that be her,” asked the marquise of herself. And the steward opened his eyes at this terrible talking young woman.
“’Tis she,” said the sergeant to the lady.
“Co-r-r-r-bleau!” again commended Marie, marching up to the sergeant. “Cor-r-r-r-bleu, do you call this duty, Sergeant Sulpice?”
“Why, she’s positively pulling his moustache,” said the marquise, so far forgetting her dignity as to speak familiarly with her own house-steward. “What an education.”
The steward was dolefully and properly shocked.
“Come—come—old grumbler, come along, or I’ll pull you by your grizzly upper-lip.”
“Order—order.”