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Updated: June 14, 2025
"I cannot remember," said I, "you had better let the next spoonful cool a little," but the patient opened his mouth for more. "C'est potage," he said, "mais il est bon." "I am sorry I made soup of it," I said to Sylvia, "but I am sure it tastes like coffee."
There was a certain chivalrous air of camaraderie in his manner to women which made them like him sooner or later; the Denhams liked him instantly. Even before the potage was removed, Lynde saw that his dinner was a success. "The cook may drop dead now, if he wants to," said Lynde to himself; "he can't spoil anything." "You are not entirely a stranger to us, Mr. Flemming," said Mrs.
Everyone talked at once; the orders were like a rattle of artillery painting for hours in the open air gives a fine edge to appetite, and patience is never the true twin of hunger. Everything but the potage was certain to be on time. Colinette, released from her Greek draperies, with her Parisian bodice had recovered the blague of the studios.
Here is his own account of the incident: "Sleep at Nemours, where we met with an innkeeper who exceeded in knavery all we had met with, either in France or Italy: for supper, we had a soupe maigre, a partridge and a chicken roasted, a plate of celery, a small cauliflower, two bottles of poor vin du Pays, and a dessert of two biscuits and four apples: here is the bill: Potage 1 liv. 10f.
'I will have a vanilla ice, O well-beloved, and a wing of a tender chicken, a fried sole, and some excellent pea-soup. 'Bien, un potage, une sole, one chicken, and an ice. 'But why should you serve them in that order rather than in the order I gave you? Marie and the two Frenchwomen who were still in the room broke into exclamations at this extravagance, but Oliver Haddo waved his fat hand.
On the day following the death of the little Ozanne Helene entered the service of M. Roussell, proprietor of the Bout-du-Monde hotel in Rennes. Some six weeks later Roussell's mother suddenly became ill. She had had occasion to reproach Helene for sullen ill-manners or something of that sort. She ate some potage which Helene had cooked. The illness that ensued lasted a long time.
The form you would take would be beef, I'm afraid; not even good roast beef, but bouillon, potage, fricandeau, friture anything one cannot taste any meat in; and that is how your wrongs would be redressed, after having had both your horns knocked off. And about the same fate for John Bull, your master, unless he keeps his horns well sharpened. Do I not speak the truth, monsieur?"
She, who was the prettiest and proudest of the family; she, who refused Sir Cockle Byles, of the Bengal Service; she, who turned up her little nose at Essex Temple, Q.C., and connected with the noble house of Albyn; she, who had but 4,000L. POUR TOUT POTAGE, to marry a man who had scarcely as much more.
True to his word, the next morning at daybreak he started to walk to Pontiac, accompanied for a mile or so by Manette and a few of the villagers. "See you, my child," he said, "I will stay with my niece, Desire Malboir, and her daughter Elise, there in Pontiac. You shall hear how I fetch that vagabond to his potage!" Valmond had purchased a tolerable white horse through Medallion.
"Lord Denbigh's Almond Marchpane," and the 'current wine' of which it is said "You may drink safely long draughts of it," will appeal perhaps only to the schoolboy of our weaker generation. Yet there are receipts, doubtless gathered in Sir Kenelm's later years, that have the cautious invalid in view. "In health you may dash the Potage with a little juyce of Orange" is in the same low key.
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