But with this awful man gobbling at my side, and those
foolish girls giggling beyond, even the forty minutes seemed ages.
Afterwards in the salon the "_jeunes filles_" were sent to talk at the
other side of the room, supervised by "the Tug," who did not dine, but
was in waiting. If you had heard their conversation, Mamma! It was
worse than the day the two came to breakfast. Just one endless string
of questions to Victorine about the Marquis, with giggles over
possibilities of their own _fiancailles!_ It is so extraordinary that
they can ever turn into witty, fascinating women like Heloise and the
Marquise. Of course, these are just provincial nobodies, whom Heloise
would not dream of knowing in Paris; perhaps the girls there are
better.
[Sidenote: _A Cure for a Fit_]
Victorine told them the Marquis was "Beau comme l'Archange Michel," and
had for her "une brulante devotion!" What will she say if after all he
refuses to come to the scratch! Jean is to accompany Agnes and me up to
Paris to-morrow to see us safely off to Dieppe. I hope he won't have
another fit in the train, I shall tell Agnes to take plenty of salts
and brandy in her bag, and a bottle of soda water, because I have
always heard that a sudden shock is best for people in fits, and one
could pop the soda water over him if the worst came to the worst.
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