-those are the girls in blue,--that's the French governess, the
one with the mustachios and the yellow parasol. How d'ye do, Mary? How
d'ye do, Fanny? This is my father,--this is your uncle."

"Mesdemoiselles! Je vous ddfends de parler a qui que ce soit hors du
squar!" screams out the lady of the mustachios; and she strode forward
to call back her young charges.

The Colonel addressed her in very good French. "I hope you will permit
me to make acquaintance with my nieces," he said, "and with their
instructress, of whom my son has given me such a favourable account."

"Hem!" said Mademoiselle Lebrun, remembering the last fight she and
Clive had had together, and a portrait of herself (with enormous
whiskers) which the young scapegrace had drawn. "Monsieur is very good.
But one cannot too early inculcate retenue and decorum to young ladies
in a country where demoiselles seem for ever to forget that they are
young ladies of condition. I am forced to keep the eyes of lynx upon
these young persons, otherwise heaven knows what would come to them.
Only yesterday, my back is turned for a moment, I cast my eyes on a
book, having but little time for literature, monsieur--for literature,
which I adore--when a cry makes itself to hear. I turn myself, and what
do I see? Mesdemoiselles, your nieces, playing at criquette, with the
Messieurs Smees--sons of Doctor Smees--young galopins, monsieur!" All
this was shrieked with immense volubility and many actions of the hand
and parasol across the square-railings to the amused Colonel, at whom
the little girls peered through the bars.

"Well, my dears, I should like to have a game at cricket with you, too,"
says the kind gentleman, reaching them each a brown hand.

"You, monsieur, c'est different--a man of your age! Salute monsieur,
your uncle, mesdemoiselles. You conceive, monsieur, that I also must be
cautious when I speak to a man so distinguished in a public squar."
And she cast down her great eyes and hid those radiant orbs from the
Colonel.

Meanwhile, Colonel Newcome, indifferent to the direction which Miss
Lebrun's eyes took, whether towards his hat or his boots, was surveying
his little nieces with that kind expression which his face always wore
when it was turned towards children. "Have you heard of your uncle in
India?" he asked them.

"No," says Maria.

"Yes," says Fanny. "You know mademoiselle said" (mademoiselle at this
moment was twittering her fingers, and, as it we