garnished their discourse, Mrs. Hartell thinking it quite graceful to exclaim at every other breath "Mon Dieu!" though she rarely uttered the words in English, the profanity being forbidden in her own country by the usages of good society, as well as by a Divine command. "What made Eugene scream so horribly? he broke my morning nap."
"Oh, madame, a thousand thousand pardons! Ask mamma's pardon, Eugene," and she joined his hands, exclaiming, "What an angel! He was so terrified at a new face. She," nodding to Lucy, "took him up too suddenly. It was all I could do to tranquillize him."
"Is the girl promising?"
"Well enough! I may make something of her—in time—with an infinity of trouble; but nothing is too much to do for madame—these Americans are so awkward at first—so ill-mannered!"
"And at last, too, Adéle. But I suppose we are to have an American waiter. Mr. Hartell has turned away Achille, and swears he'll not have another Frenchman."
"Mr. Hartell is very impetuous, madame—it was only a suspicion of poor Achille—the other servants are always against us. In truth, madame, they are all in revolution down stairs, and Henri swears he will abdicate."
"Henri going! Achille gone! Well, I will just shut myself up in my room, and let things take their own way. If Mr. Hartell will turn away my servants, he must get others to suit himself—I'll have nothing to do with it."
"Ah, madame, that is like the poor devil who said, when the coach went over the precipice, 'Never
