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I never received the letter you refer to, if ever you wrote it. Adieu, et bon soir, Monseigneur. GREENWICH, June 6, O. S. 1751.
There is no doubt that wealth has become a power in American society, and that we are in danger of feeling that, if we have not wealth, we can give neither matin,es nor soir,es; but this is a mistake. Of course the possession of wealth is most desirable.
'No, you can tell them to take the samovar, answered Nikolai Petrovitch, and he got up to meet her. Pavel Petrovitch said 'bon soir' to him abruptly, and went away to his study. Half an hour later Nikolai Petrovitch went into the garden to his favourite arbour. He was overtaken by melancholy thoughts.
Il y a plusieurs tableaux remarquables, entre autres une Venus de Leighton que je trouve superbe. La contribution de Landseer est importante, c'est un portrait de la Reine, a cheval, en deuil; cheval noir, trois chiens noirs, groom noir, ciel noir. "C'est agreable de rentrer le soir en pleine campagne; ca me fait du bien.
"Oui," said I, "tres nettement fait, et voila encore," slipping a Napoleon into his hand. "Ca s'arrange tres joliment, monsieur," said the man, grinning from ear to ear, and bowing to the ground. "C'est madame que vous voulez donc?" "Oui," said I. He led, I followed; he opened the door of a breakfast parlour "Tenez, madame, voici le monsieur qui m'a renverse hier au soir."
As I dropped off to sleep that night, the last sound of which I was conscious was, still that cannon-like chorus, coming from the direction of the square: Ave, Ave, Ave Maria! Ave, Ave, Ave Maria! Elle ne marchait que très difficilement et très péniblement. A la sortie de la piscine, vendredi soir, elle a pu marcher facilement.
Overhead each star was hard and bright, as though a lapidary had been at work in the heavens, and never had the Great Bear seemed so brilliant. But none so bright and legible or so it seemed to me as Mars in all that starry heraldry. "Bon soir, monsieur!" It was the voice of the sentry, and came from behind a barricade of hurdles, thatched with straw, on the crest of the road over the downs.
"The poor little thing," said West, "just think, not a splinter of firewood for a week and wouldn't tell me because she thought I needed it for my clay figure. Whew! When I heard it I smashed that smirking clay nymph to pieces, and the rest can freeze and be hanged!" After a moment he added timidly: "Won't you call on your way down and say bon soir? It's No. 17."
He saw the open pocket-book in my hand. He had not counted the number of passports. All the passengers were settling themselves to sleep. It must be all right; so, with a polite "Bon soir, messieurs!" he bowed and left the carriage. My sensation of relief may be better imagined than described.
Her round, French, good-natured face beamed when she saw Traill, and her little brown eyes gleamed with genuine approval as they swept over Sally. "Bon soir, Monsieur; bon soir, Madame." Every lady is Madame, however many during the week Monsieur may choose to bring, and she makes a romance of every single one of them.
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