‘Ah, mademoiselle, now I have offended you. You do not speak it like a barbarian. Your voice is very sweet, and makes every word that comes from your mouth sweet also. But there are certain little niceties, the lights and shades of our language, that it is impossible to acquire except from conversing with a Parisian; and it is on these points, unnecessary as they may appear, that I should like to see you perfect. There is so little to correct, it is but a word or an expression here and there that betrays you have not acquired the language abroad; and since I know you have the ambition to speak it well, I thought, if you would permit me, to aid you——’ ‘Monsieur!’ I interrupted him, for my false shame had evaporated by this time, ‘pray say no more. I know that my accent and my grammar must set your teeth on edge every time you hear them, and it is very good of you to wish to correct them. I am infinitely obliged, but what am I to say about it? What would your relations think if they heard that a De Nesselrode had turned French tutor to a raw English girl?’ ‘Let them say what they will! Only say yourself that I may give you a few lessons.’ ‘But where am I to take them?’ ‘Here—anywhere—so it be out in the beautiful country, with the blue sky over our heads and the flowers springing around us, and not shut up in a dull room in the house.’ This seemed so much like making appointments with him, that I hardly knew what to answer. ‘I cannot agree to meet you at any particular time, monsieur, without telling my guardian. It would not be _comme il faut_. We English girls are allowed more liberty than our French sisters, but to make appointments with gentlemen without the knowledge of our friends is going a little too far. If we meet by accident, however, I shall always be glad to take any hints you may be good enough to give me.’ ‘I will walk about every day and all day till I _do_ meet you,’ he replied fervently. I laughed, but I felt flattered. Why should Armand de Nesselrode take such an interest in my rough unmusical tongue? ‘And what are you going to charge for your lessons?’ I asked him jestingly; ‘I am not very rich, you know, so you must not lead me into extravagance.’ ‘_What am I to charge for my lessons!_’ he repeated after me slowly. ‘Ah! mademoiselle, the price will be very, _very_ high, but you shall take your own time to pay me.’ I was just going to ask what he meant, when we came within sight of another couple advancing to meet us. Not really to meet us though, but creeping slowly along the pathway deeply engaged in talk, with their heads close together and their eyes cast on the ground. The Baron and I were walking one after the other, duck fashion, but our two friends were side by side. ‘It is Monsieur Charteris!’ exclaimed my companion, who had the eye of a hawk. ‘_Is_ it?’ I returned incredulously. ‘Are you sure? Who can the lady be?’