itable, and would serve almost as disguise, to the inhabitants at
large; and as Evan had no English wear, and there was no time to procure
any for him, that was well. They arranged exactly how long he should
stay at Lymport, whom he should visit, the manner he should adopt toward
the different inhabitants. By all means he was to avoid the approach of
the gentry. For hours Evan, in a trance, half stupefied, had to listen
to the Countess's directions how he was to comport himself in Lymport.

'Show that you have descended among them, dear Van, but are not of them.
Our beautiful noble English poet expresses it so. You have come to pay
the last mortal duties, which they will respect, if they are not brutes,
and attempt no familiarities. Allow none: gently, but firmly. Imitate
Silva. You remember, at Dona Risbonda's ball? When he met the Comte
de Dartigues, and knew he was to be in disgrace with his Court on the
morrow? Oh! the exquisite shade of difference in Silva's behaviour
towards the Comte. So finely, delicately perceptible to the Comte, and
not a soul saw it but that wretched Frenchman! He came to me: "Madame,"
he said, "is a question permitted?" I replied, "As-many as you please,
M. le Comte, but no answers promised." He said: "May I ask if the
Courier has yet come in?"--"Nay, M. le Comte," I replied, "this is
diplomacy. Inquire of me, or better, give me an opinion on the new glace
silk from Paris."--"Madame," said he, bowing, "I hope Paris may send me
aught so good, or that I shall grace half so well." I smiled, "You shall
not be single in your hopes, M. le Comte. The gift would be base that
you did not embellish." He lifted his hands, French-fashion: "Madame,
it is that I have received the gift."--"Indeed! M. le Comte."--"Even now
from the Count de Saldar, your husband." I looked most innocently, "From
my husband, M. le Comte?"--"From him, Madame. A portrait. An Ambassador
without his coat! The portrait was a finished performance." I said: "And
may one beg the permission to inspect it?"--"Mais," said he, laughing:
"were it you alone, it would be a privilege to me." I had to check him.
"Believe me, M. le Comte, that when I look upon it, my praise of the
artist will be extinguished by my pity for the subject." He should have
stopped there; but you cannot have the last word with a Frenchman--not
even a woman. Fortunately the Queen just then made her entry into
the saloon, and his mot on the charity of our sex was lost.