“No, sir, upon my word!” answered I, rather slily; for I was thinking all the while how “Somebody” was a thousand times more beautiful, simple, and ladylike.
“And what has my dearest love been doing all day?” said her papa.
“Oh, Pa! I have pincéd the harp a little to Captain Fizgig’s flute. Didn’t I, Captain Fizgig?”
Captain the Honourable Francis Fizgig said, “Yes, Brough, your fair daughter pincéd the harp, and touchéd the piano, and égratignéd the guitar, and écorchéd a song or two; and we had the pleasure of a promenade à l’eau,—of a walk upon the water.”
“Law, Captain!” cries Mrs. Brough, “walk on the water?”
“Hush, Mamma, you don’t understand French!” says Miss Belinda, with a sneer.
“It’s a sad disadvantage, madam,” says Fizgig, gravely; “and I recommend you and Brough here, who are coming out in the great world, to have some lessons; or at least get up a couple of dozen phrases, and introduce them into your conversation here and there. I suppose, sir, you speak it commonly at the office, Mr. What you call it?” And Mr. Fizgig put his glass into his eye and looked at me.
“We speak English, sir,” says I, “knowing it better than French.”
“Everybody has not had your opportunities,” Miss Brough, continued the gentleman. “Everybody has not voyagé like nous autres, hey? Mais que voulez-vous, my good sir? you must stick to your cursed ledgers and things. What’s the French for ledger, Miss Belinda?”
“How can you ask? Je n’en sçais rien, I’m sure.”