l issue.

I got quite interested in my own harangue, inspired by those stars Miss
Randolph has for eyes, and didn't notice that my audience had increased,
until, at this point, I suddenly heard a shocked echo of Aunt Mary's
"Oh!" of horror, murmured in a strange voice, close to my shoulder. Then
I looked round and saw a man and a girl, who were evidently hanging on
my words.

The man was the type one sees on advertisements of succulent sauces;
you know, the smiling, full-bodied, red-faced, good-natured John Bull
sort, who is depicted smacking his lips over a meal accompanied by The
Sauce, which has produced the ecstasy. One glance at his shaven upper
lip, his chin beard, and his keen but kindly eye, and I set him down as
a comfortable manufacturer on a holiday--a Lancashire or Yorkshire man.
The girl might be a daughter or young wife; I thought the former. A
handsome creature, with big black eyes and a luscious, peach-like
colour; style of hairdressing conscientiously copied from Queen
Alexandra's; fine figure, well shown off by a too elaborate dress
probably bought at the wrong shop in Paris; you felt she had been sent
by doting parents to a boarding-school for "the daughters of noblemen
and gentlemen"; no expense spared.

It was she who had echoed Aunt Mary; and when I turned she bridled. Yes,
I think that's the only word for what she did. But it was the man who
spoke.

"I beg your pardon," he said, dividing the apology among the whole
party, and taking off his unspeakably solid hat to the ladies. "I hope
there's no objection to me and my daughter listening to this very
intelligent guide? She's learned French, but it doesn't seem to work
here; she thinks it's too Parisian for Blois, but anyhow, we couldn't
either of us understand a word the French guide said, so we took the
liberty of joining on to you, with a great deal of pleasure and profit."

He had a sort of engaging ingenuousness, mixed with shrewdness of the
provincial order, and I could see that he appealed to my American girl,
though I don't think she cottoned to the daughter. She smiled at the
papa, as if for the sake of her own; and in a few pretty words
practically made him a present of me, that is, she offered to let him
share me for the rest of the tour round the Chateau. I was not sorry, as
I hoped that the daughter might occupy the attention of Monsieur
Talleyrand; and as, under these new conditions, we continued our
explorations, I adroitly cont