“M. de Castillonnes,” she said to her partner, “have you had any quarrel with that Englishman?”
“With ce milor? But no,” said Stenio.
“He did it on purpose. There has been no day but his family has insulted me!” hissed out the Duchesse, and at this moment Lord Kew came up to make his apologies. He asked a thousand pardons of Madame la Duchesse for being so maladroit.
“Maladroit! et tres maladroit, monsieur,” says Stenio, curling his moustache; “c’est bien le mot, monsieur!
“Also, I make my excuses to Madame la Duchesse, which I hope she will receive,” said Lord Kew. The Duchesse shrugged her shoulders and sunk her head.
“When one does not know how to dance, one ought not to dance,” continued the Duchesse’s knight.
“Monsieur is very good to give me lessons in dancing,” said Lord Kew.
“Any lessons which you please, milor!” cries Stenio; “and everywhere where you will them.”
Lord Kew looked at the little man with surprise. He could not understand so much anger for so trifling an accident, which happens a dozen times in every crowded ball. He again bowed to the Duchesse, and walked away.
“This is your Englishman—your Kew, whom you vaunt everywhere,” said Stenio to M. de Florac, who was standing by and witnessed the scene. “Is he simply bête, or is he poltroon as well? I believe him to be both.”