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Updated: June 10, 2025
The three young ladies filled their glasses with the sparkling Ay, and carried me in a toast. I heard it I heard Miss speak of me I heard her say, 'Tell Monsieur Mirobolant that we thank him we admire him we love him! My feet almost failed me as she spoke. "Since that, can I have any reason to doubt that the young artist has made some progress in the heart of the English Miss?
It was summer, but fires of welcome were crackling in the great hall chimney, and in the rooms which the family were to occupy. Monsieur Mirobolant had looked at the procession from one of the lime-trees in the avenue.
"The poor fellow is mad for your beaux yeux, I believe," Strong said. "He is a very good cook, but he is not quite right in the head." "What did you say to him in the unknown tongue?" asked Miss Blanche. "He is a Gascon, and comes from the borders of Spain," Strong answered. "I told him he would lose his place if he walked with you." "Poor Monsieur Mirobolant!" said Blanche.
But there was another person connected with the Clavering establishment, who became a constant guest of our friend, the milliner. This was the chief of the kitchen, Monsieur Mirobolant, with whom Madame Fribsby soon formed an intimacy.
A young friend and protege of his, of considerable merit, M. Cavalcadour, happened to be disengaged through the lamented death of Lord Hauncher, with whom young Cavalcadour had made his debut as an artist. He had nothing to refuse to his master, Mirobolant, and would impress himself to be useful to a gourmet so distinguished as Monsieur Timmins.
His own house was shut up; the successor of Mirobolant, who had sent in his bills so prematurely, was dismissed by the indignant Lady Clavering; the luxuriance of the establishment was greatly pruned and reduced.
His own house was shut up: the successor of Mirobolant, who had sent in his bills so prematurely, was dismissed by the indignant Lady Clavering: the luxuriance of the establishment was greatly pruned and reduced.
He remembered how jealous he had been of Oaks in his first affair; he was ready to pardon anything to a man under a passion like that: and he went into the coffee-room where Mirobolant was waiting, with an outstretched hand, and made him a speech in French, in which he declared that he was "sincerement fache d'avoir use une expression qui avoit pu blesser Monsieur Mirobolant, et qu'il donnoit sa parole comme un gentilhomme qu'il ne l'avoit jamais, jamais intende," said Pen, who made a shot at a French word for "intended," and was secretly much pleased with his own fluency and correctness in speaking that language.
Upon which the unhappy Mirobolant relinquished the arm which he had held for a minute, and with a most profound and piteous bow, fell back. "Don't you know who it is?" Strong asked of Miss Amory, as he led her away. "It is the chef Mirobolant." "How should I know?" asked Blanche. "He has a croix; he is very distingue; he has beautiful eyes."
The little crowd, with some ironical cheers and hootings, nevertheless felt the force of Madame Fribsby's vigorous allocution, and retreated before her; for the old lady was rather respected in the place, and her oddity and her kindness had made her many friends there. Poor Mirobolant was grateful indeed to hear the language of his country ever so ill spoken.
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