She need not fear, no one would ever think she was
married, she looks like a lumping German governess. Two of her girl
friends came to breakfast yesterday, of course with their mothers, and
you should have heard the idiot conversation we had! All plopped down
on the great sofa in the big salon, like a row of dolls. The two
friends were simply gasping with excitement at the idea of my having
gone on the _Sauterelle_. They asked me endless questions, and giggled,
and I _did_ tell them some things!
They asked also about England, and was it really true that when we went
to a ball we stayed with our _danseurs_ till the next dance? I said I
had not been to a ball yet, but had always heard that is what one did.
One of the friends is quite nice-looking, but with such dirty nails. It
appears you don't wash much till you are married, it is not considered
_bien vu_, in fact rather _lance_, and you can't have fine
under-clothes, it has all got to be as unattractive as possible, and
that shows you are as good as gold and will make a nice wife.
[Sidenote: _The Trouville Casino_]
But it must be a bother picking up a taste for having baths and things
afterwards, if it isn't from instinct, don't you think so, Mamma? And
I am glad I am not French.
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