eople," she began.

"Who? Mrs. Cholmondeley? I thought you always found her house charming?"

"I have not been to Mrs. Cholmondeley's."

"Indeed! Have you made new acquaintance?"

"My uncle de Bassompierre is come."

"Your uncle de Bassompierre! Are you not glad?--I thought he was a
favourite."

"You thought wrong: the man is odious; I hate him."

"Because he is a foreigner? or for what other reason of equal weight?"

"He is not a foreigner. The man is English enough, goodness knows; and
had an English name till three or four years ago; but his mother was a
foreigner, a de Bassompierre, and some of her family are dead and have
left him estates, a title, and this name: he is quite a great man now."

"Do you hate him for that reason?"

"Don't I know what mamma says about him? He is not my own uncle, but
married mamma's sister. Mamma detests him; she says he killed aunt
Ginevra with unkindness: he looks like a bear. Such a dismal evening!"
she went on. "I'll go no more to his big hotel. Fancy me walking into a
room alone, and a great man fifty years old coming forwards, and after
a few minutes' conversation actually turning his back upon me, and then
abruptly going out of the room. Such odd ways! I daresay his conscience
smote him, for they all say at home I am the picture of aunt Ginevra.
Mamma often declares the likeness is quite ridiculous."

"Were you the only visitor?"

"The only visitor? Yes; then there was missy, my cousin: little
spoiled, pampered thing."

"M. de Bassompierre has a daughter?"

"Yes, yes: don't tease one with questions. Oh, dear! I am so tired."

She yawned. Throwing herself without ceremony on my bed she added, "It
seems Mademoiselle was nearly crushed to a jelly in a hubbub at the
theatre some weeks ago."

"Ah! indeed. And they live at a large hotel in the Rue Crecy?"

"Justement. How do _you_ know?"

"I have been there."

"Oh, you have? Really! You go everywhere in these days. I suppose
Mother Bretton took you. She and Esculapius have the _entree_ of the de
Bassompierre apartments: it seems 'my son John' attended missy on the
occasion of her accident--Accident? Bah! All affectation! I don't think
she was squeezed more than she richly deserves for her airs. And now
there is quite an intimacy struck up: I heard something about 'auld
lang syne,' and what not. Oh, how stupid they all were!"

"_All!_ You said you were the only visitor."

"Did I? You see one forgets to particu