Part 10 (2/2)

”Why, you are really enthusiastic about the Emperors,” said the Amba.s.sador.

”Certainly,” replied Mr. Boosey, ”I have always been a great Neapolitan.”

Kurz Pacha stared at him a moment, and then took a large pinch of snuff solemnly. I think it's very ill bred to stare as he does sometimes, when somebody has made a remark. I saw nothing particular in that speech of Mr. Boosey's; and yet D'Orsay Firkin smiled to himself as he told Mrs. Gnu it was her turn.

”I wonder, my dear Mrs. Potiphar,” said the Sennaar Minister seating himself by her side, as the game went on, ”that Europeans should have so poor an idea of America and Americans, when such crowds of the very best society are constantly crossing the ocean. Now, you and your friends are going to Paris, perhaps to other parts of Europe, and I should certainly suppose that, without flattery, (taking another pinch of snuff,) the foreigners whom you meet might get rid of some of their prejudices against the Americans. You will go, you know, as the representatives of a republic where social ranks are not organized to the exclusion of any; but where talent and character always secure social consideration. The simplicity of the republican idea and system will appear in your manners and modes of life. Leaving to the children of a society based upon antique and aristocratic principles, to squander their lives in an aimless luxury, you will carry about with you, as it were the fresh airs and virgin character of a new country and civilization. When you go to Paris, it will be like a sweet country breeze blowing into a perfumer's shop. The customers will scent something finer than the most exquisite essence, and will prefer the fresh fragrance of the flower to the most elaborate distillation. Roses smell sweeter than attar of roses. You and your party, estimable lady, will be the roses. You will not (am I right _this_ time?) carry coals to Newcastle; for if any of your companions think that the sharp eye of Paris will not pierce their pretensions, or the satiric tongue of Paris fail to immortalize it, they mistake greatly. You cannot beat Paris with its own weapons; and Paris will immensely respect you if you use your own. Poor little Mrs. Vite thinks she pa.s.ses for a _Parisienne_ in Paris. Why, there is not a _chiffonier_ in the street at midnight that couldn't see straight through the little woman, and nothing would better please the _Jardin Mabille_ than to have her for a b.u.t.t. My dear madame, the ape is a very ingenious animal, and his form much resembles the human. Moles, probably, and the inhabitants of the planet Jupiter, do not discern the difference; but I rather think we do. A ten-strike by Venus! well done, Mrs. Gnu,” cried the Amba.s.sador; ”now, Mrs. Potiphar.”

The Pacha didn't play; but he asked Mr. Firkin what was a good average for a man, in the game.

”Well, a spare every time,” said he.

”Mr. Firkin,” asked Mrs. Gnu, ”what is a good woman's average?”

”Does any lady here know that?” inquired the Pacha, looking round.

”No,” said Mr. Boosey; ”we must send and inquire of Miss Tattle.”

”How pleasantly the game goes on, dear Mrs. Gnu,” said the Pacha; ”but Miss Minerva ought to be here, she always holds such a good hand at every game.”

”I think,” said Mrs. Gnu, ”that if she once got a good hold of any hand, she wouldn't let it go immediately.”

”Good!” shouted Mr. Boosey.

”Hi! hi!” roared Mr. Potiphar.

The Pacha took snuff placidly, and said quietly:

”You've fairly trumped my trick, and taken it, Mrs. Gnu.”

”I should say the trick has taken her,” whispered Mr. Firkin at my elbow to Kurz Pacha.

The Sennaar Amba.s.sador opened his eyes wide, and offered Mr. Firkin his snuff-box.

Monday came at length. It was well known that we were all going--the Potiphars and the rest of us. Everybody had spoken of the difficulty of getting state-rooms on the steamer to town, and hoped we had spoken in time.

”I have written and secured my rooms,” said Mr. Potiphar to everybody he met; ”I am not to be left in the lurch, my dear sir, it isn't my way.” And then he marched on, Gauche Boosey said, as if at least both sides of the street were his way. He's changed a great deal lately.

The De Familles were going the same day. ”Hope you've secured rooms, De Famille,” said Mr. Potiphar blandly to him.

”No,” answered he, shortly; ”no, not yet; it isn't my way; I don't mean to give myself trouble about things; I don't bother; it isn't my way.”

And each went his own way up and down the street. But early on Monday afternoon Mr. De Famille and his family drove toward Fall Kiver, from which place the boat starts.

Monday evening the Potiphars and the rest of us went to the wharf at Newport, and presently the boat came up. We bundled on board, and as soon as he could get to the office Mr. Potiphar asked for the keys of his rooms.

”Why, sir,” said the clerk, ”Mr. De Famille has them. He came on board at Fall Eiver and asked for your keys, as if the rooms had been secured for him.”

”What does that mean?” demanded Mr. Potiphar.

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