He sat between her and Professor Genron, wlio ceded with cynical alacrity his place at the lady's right. Elizabeth, consequently, was directly opposite to him. Miss Baring was too tired to appear at dinner, bnt her brother occupied his usual seat. Elton spoke French admirably, and not being afflicted with shyness, sent his snap-shots in every direction across the table. He avoided, with commendable tact, making Elizabeth the direct recipient of most of these shots, though, by ricochet, many of them struck her.
Madame Martineau had asked him, with her sweetest smile, if he knew Paris well.
"Yes—the English quarter. Very little this side the river. Came here with a special object." Elizabeth winced inwardly, but he did not look at her, and turning to Genron, shot on rapidly, "You are a professor at the Sorbonne, I understand? I want to know something of French law. Any lectures there I can attend?"
Genron. "Certainly; but Monsieur Bertrand, the young man at the further end of the table, can tell you more about them. He is a law-student."
Elton (looking down the table and catching Bertrand's eye). "Perhaps you will be good enough to give me some information by-and-by. French oratory remarkable—Berryer unsurpassed. We English, with few exceptions, poor orators."
George (smiling as he leans forward). "We know exceptions, do we not, Miss Shaw?"
Genron (sarcastically). "The English are a silent people; their tongues seem mostly tied."
