nd rousing the whole house and neighbourhood?

"Oh, and how did you like the nun as a bed-fellow? _I_ dressed her up:
didn't I do it well? Did you shriek when you saw her: I should have
gone mad; but then you have such nerves!--real iron and bend-leather! I
believe you feel nothing. You haven't the same sensitiveness that a
person of my constitution has. You seem to me insensible both to pain
and fear and grief. You are a real old Diogenes.

"Well, dear grandmother! and are you not mightily angry at my moonlight
flitting and run away match? I assure you it is excellent fun, and I
did it partly to spite that minx, Paulina, and that bear, Dr. John: to
show them that, with all their airs, I could get married as well as
they. M. de Bassompierre was at first in a strange fume with Alfred; he
threatened a prosecution for 'detournement de mineur,' and I know not
what; he was so abominably in earnest, that I found myself forced to do
a little bit of the melodramatic--go down on my knees, sob, cry, drench
three pocket-handkerchiefs. Of course, 'mon oncle' soon gave in;
indeed, where was the use of making a fuss? I am married, and that's
all about it. He still says our marriage is not legal, because I am not
of age, forsooth! As if that made any difference! I am just as much
married as if I were a hundred. However, we are to be married again,
and I am to have a trousseau, and Mrs. Cholmondeley is going to
superintend it; and there are some hopes that M. de Bassompierre will
give me a decent portion, which will be very convenient, as dear Alfred
has nothing but his nobility, native and hereditary, and his pay. I
only wish uncle would do things unconditionally, in a generous,
gentleman-like fashion; he is so disagreeable as to make the dowry
depend on Alfred's giving his written promise that he will never touch
cards or dice from the day it is paid down. They accuse my angel of a
tendency to play: I don't know anything about that, but I _do_ know he
is a dear, adorable creature.

"I cannot sufficiently extol the genius with which de Hamal managed our
flight. How clever in him to select the night of the fete, when Madame
(for he knows her habits), as he said, would infallibly be absent at
the concert in the park. I suppose _you_ must have gone with her. I
watched you rise and leave the dormitory about eleven o'clock. How you
returned alone, and on foot, I cannot conjecture. That surely was _you_
we met in the narrow old Rue St. Je