ttention
paid me which decidedly is my due. Of what an excellent family are the
Gerards, as we know, and the Moores also! They have a right to claim a
certain respect, and to feel wounded when it is withheld from them. In
Antwerp I was always treated with distinction; here, one would think
that when I open my lips in company I speak English with a ridiculous
accent, whereas I am quite assured that I pronounce it perfectly."

"Hortense, in Antwerp we were known rich; in England we were never known
but poor."

"Precisely, and thus mercenary are mankind. Again, dear brother, last
Sunday, if you recollect, was very wet; accordingly I went to church in
my neat black sabots, objects one would not indeed wear in a fashionable
city, but which in the country I have ever been accustomed to use for
walking in dirty roads. Believe me, as I paced up the aisle, composed
and tranquil, as I am always, four ladies, and as many gentlemen,
laughed and hid their faces behind their prayer-books."

"Well, well! don't put on the sabots again. I told you before I thought
they were not quite the thing for this country."

"But, brother, they are not common sabots, such as the peasantry wear. I
tell you, they are sabots noirs, tres propres, tres convenables. At Mons
and Leuze--cities not very far removed from the elegant capital of
Brussels--it is very seldom that the respectable people wear anything
else for walking in winter. Let any one try to wade the mud of the
Flemish chaussees in a pair of Paris brodequins, on m'en dirait des
nouvelles!"

"Never mind Mons and Leuze and the Flemish chaussees; do at Rome as the
Romans do. And as to the camisole and jupon, I am not quite sure about
them either. I never see an English lady dressed in such garments. Ask
Caroline Helstone."

"Caroline! _I_ ask Caroline? _I_ consult her about my dress? It is _she_
who on all points should consult _me_. She is a child."

"She is eighteen, or at least seventeen--old enough to know all about
gowns, petticoats, and chaussures."

"Do not spoil Caroline, I entreat you, brother. Do not make her of more
consequence than she ought to be. At present she is modest and
unassuming: let us keep her so."

"With all my heart. Is she coming this morning?"

"She will come at ten, as usual, to take her French lesson."

"You don't find that she sneers at you, do you?"

"She does not. She appreciates me better than any one else here; but
then she has more intimate oppo