"Well, here I am--and instead of a telegram, too!" the
Grandmother at last ejaculated, to dissipate the silence.
"What? You were not expecting me?"
"Antonida Vassilievna! O my dearest mother! But how on earth
did you, did you--?" The mutterings of the unhappy General died
away.
I verily believe that if the Grandmother had held her tongue a
few seconds longer she would have had a stroke.
"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
enchante! Votre sante--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?"
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