so as to be near the professor, who was still teaching
his lordship the polka. Indeed, it must be said that Lord Farintosh made
great progress under this artist, and that he danced very much better
in his third season than in the first and second years after he had come
upon the town. From the same instructor the Marquis learned the latest
novelties in French conversation, the choicest oaths and phrases (for
which he was famous), so that although his French grammar was naturally
defective, he was enabled to order a dinner at Philippe's, and to bully
a waiter, or curse a hackney-coachman with extreme volubility. A young
nobleman of his rank was received with the distinction which was his
due, by the French sovereign of that period; and at the Tuileries, and
the houses of the French nobility, which he visited, Monsieur le Marquis
de Farintosh excited considerable remark, by the use of some of the
phrases which his young professor had taught to him. People even went so
far as to say that the Marquis was an awkward and dull young man, of the
very worst manners.
Whereas the young Clive Newcome--and it comforted the poor fellow's
heart somewhat, and be sure pleased Ethel, who was looking on at his
triumphs--was voted the most charming young Englishman who had been seen
for a long time in our salons. Madame de Florac, who loved him as a son
of her own, actually went once or twice into the world in order to see
his debut. Madame de Moncontour inhabited a part of the Hotel de Florac,
and received society there. The French people did not understand what
bad English she talked, though they comprehended Lord Farintosh's French
blunders. "Monsieur Newcome is an artist! What a noble career!" cries a
great French lady, the wife of a Marshal to the astonished Miss Newcome.
"This young man is the cousin, of the charming mees? You must be proud
to possess such a nephew, madame!" says another French lady to the
Countess of Kew (who, you may be sure, is delighted to have such a
relative). And the French lady invites Clive to her receptions expressly
in order to make herself agreeable to the old Comtesse. Before the
cousins have been three minutes together in Madame de Florac's salon,
she sees that Clive is in love with Ethel Newcome. She takes the boy's
hand and says, "J'ai votre secret, mon ami;" and her eyes regard him for
a moment as fondly, as tenderly, as ever they looked at his father.
Oh, what tears have they shed, gentle eyes! Oh,
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