de Bassompierre apartments: it seems 'my son John' attended missy on the occasion of her accident—accident? Bah! All affectation! I don't think she was squeezed more than she richly deserves for her airs. And now there is quite an intimacy struck up: I heard something about 'Auld lang syne,' and what not? Oh, how stupid they all were!"
"All! You said you were the only visitor?"
"Did I? You see one forgets to particularize an old woman and her boy."
"Dr. and Mrs. Bretton were at M. de Bassompierre's this evening?"
"Ay, ay! as large as life; and missy played the hostess. What a conceited doll it is!"
Soured and listless, Miss Fanshawe was beginning to disclose the causes of her prostrate condition. There had been a retrenchment of incense, a diversion or a total withholding of homage and attention: coquetry had failed of effect, vanity had undergone mortification. She lay fuming in the vapours.
"Is Miss de Bassompierre quite well now?" I asked.
"As well as you or I, no doubt; but she is an
