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My father's son, madam, won't aggravate the wrong my father did you. Continue to be his widow, and give me your kindness. 'Tis all I ask from you; and I shall never speak of this matter again." "Mais vous etes un noble jeune homme!" breaks out my lady, speaking, as usual with her when she was agitated, in the French language. "Noblesse oblige," says Mr. Esmond, making her a low bow.

Espérons toujours! Et vous, ma pauvre Mademoiselle. Vous êtes excédée. Permettez que je vous fasse la meme piqure?" But she thanked him and said she wanted all her wits about her, though she promised "se maîtriser" to keep calm. What a night! Her ears had a sense of hearing that was preternaturally acute. The most distant step in the corridors was audible. Was it a reprieve?

Their courage, where their hearts are concerned, is indeed proverbial: "Oh! femmes c'est a tort qu'on vous nommes timides, A la voix de vos coeurs vous etes intrepides." Experience has proved that women can be as enduring as men, under the heaviest trials and calamities; but too little pains are taken to teach them to endure petty terrors and frivolous vexations with fortitude.

The child looked up quaintly at her, and with the same whimsical smile which Guida had given to another so many years ago, he looked at Ranulph and said: "Pardon, monsieur." "Coum est qu'on etes, m'sieu'?" said Ranulph in another patois greeting. Guida shook her head reprovingly.

The consciousness of being the instrument of these higher powers ought to outweigh all other joys for man; even in death he finds his life, his nest. Rudin stopped and dropped his eyes with a smile of involuntary embarrassment. 'Vous etes un poete, was Darya Mihailovna's comment in an undertone. And all were inwardly agreeing with her all except Pigasov.

At the far end of the second story hall she perceived the Vicomte, who had not appeared at breakfast, coming out of his room. She paused with her hand on the walnut post and laughed a little, so ludicrous was his expression as he approached her. "Ah, Mademoiselle, que vous etes mechante!" he exclaimed. "But I forgive you, if you will not go off with that stock-broker.

I had not been presented myself; so turning about to her, he did it just as well, by asking her if she had come from Paris? No: she was going that route, she said. Vous n'etes pas de Londres? She was not, she replied. Then Madame must have come through Flanders. Apparemment vous etes Flammande? said the French captain. The lady answered, she was. Peut etre de Lisle? added he.

"True I had forgotten. I'll sing instead. Fishes, I have been told, are fond of music. 'Fanfan, je vous aimerais bien; Contre vous je n'ai nul caprice; Vous êtes gentil, j'en convien...." "Come, now!" I exclaimed pettishly, "this is really too bad. I had a bite a most decided bite and if you had only kept quiet".... "Nonsense, my dear fellow!

Rossini talked a long time with Gounod, and Auber told me that Rossini said, patting Gounod on the back, "Vous etes le chevalier Bayard de la musique." Gounod answered, "Sans peur, non!" Rossini said, "Dans tous les cas, sans reproche et sans egal." Gounod is, I think, the gentlest, the most modest, and the kindest-hearted man in the world. His music is like him, gentle and graceful.

While the Baron greeted us, his guests stood waiting to be presented; their formal bow would have done credit to a foreign embassy during an imperial audience. The next moment we were talking as naturally together and with as much camaraderie as if we had known each other for years. "Make yourselves at home, my children!" cried the Baron. "Vous êtes chez vous; the ladies have gone to Paris."