“Ahem! Blast the—Oh, yes—certainly—Mrs. Remnant, Count Deflamzi—Count Deflamzi, Mrs. Remnant.”
“Glad to see you, old lady,” said Deflamzi; and then, at a loss for a remark to show his quality, he added—“What a devilish vulgar country this is of yours!”
“An eccentric devil!” whispered Tousky Wousky in Mrs. Remnant’s ear; “who has a plenty of money and thinks he has a right to abuse every thing and every body.”
“I am most happy, count, to make your acquaintance,” said Mrs. Remnant, quite overlooking the puppy’s impertinence in her delight at being seen conversing with a couple of counts in Broadway.
“The pleasure of meeting Mrs. Remnant to-day is as unexpected as it is gratifying,” said Deflamzi. “I had intended asking my old friend Rufsky Fusky here, long since to introduce me, but—”
“Rufsky Fusky!”
“A nick-name, by which he used to call me when we were boys,” said poor Tousky Wousky hastily, and then, in an aside, he muttered to Deflamzi; “Curse you, Alphonse! I wish you would call me by my right name.”
“What is it?”
“Tousky Wousky.”
“Ah, yes! pardon me,” said Deflamzi; and then, turning to the old lady in the coach, he continued; “as I was saying, Madam, I had intended asking my old friend, Whisky Frisky, to introduce me before, but the good fortune of—”