"Did it, really? From Persia? I heard it came from—you know the place, ever so far off, where the colonies are. And how about her marriage?"
"It's broken off: she said no, and it's all settled."
"But the trousseau? Mamma saw the three cashmere shawls, three wonders! One had red ground with little figures on it—you know the sort they're wearing now: that shawl was really eloquent. I think that sort of thing is like music, it delights one so."
"That was very fine—three cashmeres, and diamonds too, and she said no?"
"She said no, and she was right, for it seems he limped frightfully."
"Who did?"
"The gentleman, of course."
"But, my dear girl, people always give three cashmeres. Only think a minute: the long cashmere for calls in winter—well, that's one; then you must have a square one: it would kill you to wear a long cashmere in hot weather; and then you could not refuse a third to go to the bath or to mass in—well, that makes three, don't you see? I would not be married with fewer. No, thank you, I wouldn't go about looking like a chambermaid. No, indeed I wouldn't."
"Did the gentleman limp very badly? For, after all, he was a consul."
"Oh, as to that, his position is a magnificent one. It seems that in the country where he is consul people are carried in palanquins."