“How on earth did I what ?” she exclaimed. “Why, I just got into the train and came here. What else is the railway meant for? But you thought that I had turned up my toes and left my property to the lot of you. Oh, I know all about the telegrams which you have been dispatching. They must have cost you a pretty sum, I should think, for telegrams are not sent from abroad for nothing. Well, I picked up my heels, and came here. Who is this Frenchman? Monsieur de Griers, I suppose?”
“ Oui, madame ,” assented De Griers. “ Et, croyez, je suis si enchanté! Votre santé—c’est un miracle vous voir ici. Une surprise charmante! ”
“Just so. ‘ Charmante! ’ I happen to know you as a mountebank, and therefore trust you no more than this .” She indicated her little finger. “And who is that ?” she went on, turning towards Mlle. Blanche. Evidently the Frenchwoman looked so becoming in her riding-habit, with her whip in her hand, that she had made an impression upon the old lady. “Who is that woman there?”
“ Mlle. de Cominges,” I said. “And this is her mother, Madame de Cominges. They also are staying in the hotel.”
“Is the daughter married?” asked the old lady, without the least semblance of ceremony.
“No,” I replied as respectfully as possible, but under my breath.
“Is she good company?”
I failed to understand the question.
“I mean, is she or is she not a bore? Can she speak Russian? When this De Griers was in Moscow he soon learnt to make himself understood.”
I explained to the old lady that Mlle. Blanche had never visited Russia.
“Bonjour, then,” said Madame, with sudden brusquerie.