" Ah , oui , il ne vous manque que cela : ah , dat is, you would be so near parfait , if you could but to know de French. But I do love de English! d' English is charmante ! -- she is -- beautiful rolling language! -- But monsieur vicaire , shall I shew you mon petit trésor -- de little Charles?"
"I thank you, mademoiselle," cried the vicar, as he looked at his watch: "I am contented that he is well. It is time that you present me to madame Adéle."
"Oh dear, no, not at all in de vorld !" urged mademoiselle: "I must have de pleasure to shew you mon petit . C'est en enfant qui -- dat is, e is wonderful shild -- very quite wonderful! and he speak d' English and de French as I do tell him. C'est un veritable plaisir -- it is pleasure d'entendre parler dat ."

Leclerc spoke better English than his companion; for during the absence of his young mistress in France, he had rested with her family in England. He regarded mademoiselle at this moment, as only the good-humoured French can regard where they are prepared to taunt. -- " Vhat vould you design at de parson, Miss?" demanded he.
" Moi ?" asked Justine. " Rien ! rien !"
"Speak English, Miss," enjoined Leclerc. " Monsieur Vicaire cannot speak de French, and he cannot receive your addresses but in his tongue."
" Vell ," cried mademoiselle, "I vill be sure to address him in his tongue den . Is dat good English?"
" Oh , it is beautiful dat ! " encouraged Leclerc.
" Vell den ," rejoined mademoiselle, "I do vant always to speak de good English for dat I address de vicaire ."
"But, Miss," began Leclerc, " what do you propose to yourself in -- in --" Leclerc was at a loss for a word -- "in -- in killing monsieur le vicaire ?"
"No, sir," answered Justine, indignantly, "I do not propose to myself to kill de vicaire ."
" Regardez un peu ," persisted Leclerc. "You have dressed yourself to-day like de queen of Mesopotamie, and it is altogether to kill de vicaire ."
" Pardonnerez " cried mademoiselle.
" Non . I do say," re-urged Leclerc -- "I do say dat your are vicked against de vicaire -- dat you do vish he vill marry you!"
" Mon Dieu ! est il possible ?" inquired mademoiselle, in amazement.
" C'est certain " rejoined Leclerc. "But hear me, Miss -- I do pray you to hear me, Miss. In your -- vhat do you call dat vord croyance ? Faidth ? Yes, dat is de vord . Vell den , Miss, in your faidth , de parsons do never marry demselves , and it is shameful for your to tempt an English parson to marry himself ."

Leclerc spoke better English than his companion; for during the absence of his young mistress in France, he had rested with her family in England. He regarded mademoiselle at this moment, as only the good-humoured French can regard where they are prepared to taunt. -- " Vhat vould you design at de parson, Miss?" demanded he.
" Moi ?" asked Justine. " Rien ! rien !"
"Speak English, Miss," enjoined Leclerc. " Monsieur Vicaire cannot speak de French, and he cannot receive your addresses but in his tongue."
" Vell ," cried mademoiselle, "I vill be sure to address him in his tongue den . Is dat good English?"
" Oh , it is beautiful dat ! " encouraged Leclerc.
" Vell den ," rejoined mademoiselle, "I do vant always to speak de good English for dat I address de vicaire ."
"But, Miss," began Leclerc, " what do you propose to yourself in -- in --" Leclerc was at a loss for a word -- "in -- in killing monsieur le vicaire ?"
"No, sir," answered Justine, indignantly, "I do not propose to myself to kill de vicaire ."
" Regardez un peu ," persisted Leclerc. "You have dressed yourself to-day like de queen of Mesopotamie, and it is altogether to kill de vicaire ."
" Pardonnerez " cried mademoiselle.
" Non . I do say," re-urged Leclerc -- "I do say dat your are vicked against de vicaire -- dat you do vish he vill marry you!"
" Mon Dieu ! est il possible ?" inquired mademoiselle, in amazement.
" C'est certain " rejoined Leclerc. "But hear me, Miss -- I do pray you to hear me, Miss. In your -- vhat do you call dat vord croyance ? Faidth ? Yes, dat is de vord . Vell den , Miss, in your faidth , de parsons do never marry demselves , and it is shameful for your to tempt an English parson to marry himself ."

Mademoiselle entered; and remembering her design of speaking English, she began immediately to reproach her mistress for her tears. -- " Mon Dieu madame!" exclaimed Justine, " vous allez gâter -- vous allez gâter vos beaux yeux ! -- dat is, you go to -- to -- spoil your most beautiful eyes with your crying always . If you cannot content yourself with rest here, why rest you here ? I would not do any such a ting as to me deplaire -- to make myself miserable."
Madame checked the eloquence of Justine, and would not hear any reference to her present situation, rights, or future hopes. But the talent of mademoiselle was captured in every sort of eloquence, and now she turned it to the descriptive. "It is not -- is not gay" said mademoiselle; "no, it is not gay enough at dis Cheriton: dere is noting of de vorld ; I vould have all I did desire far away, and I vould not fatigue myself to rest in dis part unpleasant . Dere is de sea! -- mon Dieu , dere is de sea! very fine! -- il y a -- dere are encore de trees, very, very, very mournful, and de shurch upon de little hill in our face -- vhat sadness!"

This one too could restrain his voice no longer. -- " Faidth , madam, my lard ," cried this idler, "it would be a mighty great pleasure to me to have the hanour to guide your lardship, for I know very well that monsieur le capitaine manes me."
"Are you a sailor?" asked madame, in nearly the same language.
" Is it if I'm a sailor you ask , madam, my lard ?" inquired the same one. " Faidth I'm a sailor too, and that I have bane ever since I was barn . And a little more for your comfort, I am of you own dare country, and that cannot be any other than Ireland, I warrant."
This was a presumption, for none of us had seen a great deal of Ireland, though what we had seen we had much loved. -- "Well then," said madame, you shall be our pilot to -- what do you call the place?"
"Is it the place, my lard ?" inquired the sailor. " Troth , that is called Fecamp, and a most ilegant ville it is for a little out-of-the-way place. You will find there, your hanour , a wanderful abbey, with a swate little chapel to the Holy Virgin, that hardly ever suffers a poor soul to be lost in the sea. Ainsi, monsieur capitaine, je vais vous quitter. Je me chargerai du soin de madame . Madam, I am at your sarvice , and to Fecamp, and plase your hanour , my lard , I consave myself your pilot."
Thus this fresh pilot with the same facility looked, and spoke, and acted. Now English, now French, formed for action, but in love with idleness; [...]

"Well, and your age; that cannot be much, I imagine?" observed madame d'Osterley.
" Exparience is by yares , madame, I am not very yang , for mighty ill-treated I have been."
"But now -- now," continued madame, curious to know the degree of Liffey's prosperity, "but now, after your great difficulties --"
The word did not suit Liffey; he fancied that the great came mockingly. -- "Your pardon, madame, my lard -- je ne voudrais pas -- I mane I would not that your hanour should misunderstand me. My trables were all sent me, and I found it my duty to bear them. They were grate enough for one; but he who is ignorant of all trable , would think very little of mine, were I to endeavour to count them."
"It is perfectly true, very just, Lif -- Liffey, I think you are called?" observed madame.
"Liffey O'Paole is my name, and plase your ladyship; it came down from my grandfather, who came down -- humph! -- from the flood, I belave . Liffey, your hanour , is taken from the ilegant river of Dublin, and Paole comes from -- faidth , I don't know, but from some paol or another, I fancy."
"That is very probable," said madame. "So then, Liffey O'Paole, you have entirely quitted your country, and are become a resident of France?" " Why , resident, if you plase , my lady," answered Liffey; "for it would be an indacent thing for a man not to reside with his wife, the poor cratur !"
[...]
"Married?" inquired madame, with astonishment.
"By the true church, and plase your ladyship, though you may think it a very hard matter," replied Liffey.

The traveller was obliged to her for the hint, and, conducted by Jem, he proceeded on his pedestrian pilgrimage to what was emphatically called "the Hall." On his way thither he was curious to extract from his conductor some information respecting Lord Arlington, and the light in which he was regarded in that neighbourhood. "Is Lord Arlington popular hereabouts?" he asked.
"Sir?" was the exclamation of the uncomprehending Jem, a short, bandy-legged, ostlerlike looking youth of about twenty.
"I mean," said the traveller, altering his phraseology , " is he liked in this neighbourhood? "
"Oh -- ay -- yes , he's liked very well, for he's a very good gentleman, and spends a sight of money here. There's lots of hands as he employs one way or tother , and nobody hereabouts needs be out of work as wants to have it ; only, you see, it would be better for the inn if he didn't live so quiet like, but had gentlefolks come and see him, just as other gentlefolks do; howsumever , that's partly his own consarn , for the inn is my Lord's, and master says he can't pay him hardly no rent if he don't do nothing for it. "
"People would be sorry, I suppose, if Lord Arlington were to go away from here?"
" Ay , surely. It has been a rare thing for the parish him coming and living down here."
"Is he charitable?" inquired the traveller; " does he give away much money ?"
"He gives some sometimes to them as can't work , but he generally gives work to them as can ."
"Is he often seen?"
"Oh -- ay -- you 'll see him most days riding or walking somewhere abouts, but he don't go much off his own ground -- but then that reaches a long way; why it is all my Lord's as far as you can see, and a mile or two afore you came to the village."
"Does he dislike being met or spoken to?"
"Eh! no -- not at all -- at least by them as live about here . He talks a deal to 'em , and knows them well nigh all, I reckon; there an't a gentleman in the land as is freer and pleasantspokener than my Lord, and he isn't stiff and high a bit, and not as they say lords is elsewhere."
"Do any gentlemen of the neighbourhood ever call upon his Lordship?"
"No, Sir, none as I knows of; but there is no gentleman very nigh ; Squire Grufferton is the nighest , and he is about twelve miles off."
"Then Lord Arlington lives quite alone, doesn't he?"
"No, Sir."
"No! and who lives with him?"
"Oh, there's Master Bennet the steward, and there's the butler, and -- "
"Ah! his establishment, his servants; but is there anybody else?"
"No, Sir, nobody as I knows of ."

The traveller was obliged to her for the hint, and, conducted by Jem, he proceeded on his pedestrian pilgrimage to what was emphatically called "the Hall." On his way thither he was curious to extract from his conductor some information respecting Lord Arlington, and the light in which he was regarded in that neighbourhood. "Is Lord Arlington popular hereabouts?" he asked.
"Sir?" was the exclamation of the uncomprehending Jem, a short, bandy-legged, ostlerlike looking youth of about twenty.
"I mean," said the traveller, altering his phraseology , " is he liked in this neighbourhood? "
"Oh -- ay -- yes , he's liked very well, for he's a very good gentleman, and spends a sight of money here. There's lots of hands as he employs one way or tother , and nobody hereabouts needs be out of work as wants to have it ; only, you see, it would be better for the inn if he didn't live so quiet like, but had gentlefolks come and see him, just as other gentlefolks do; howsumever , that's partly his own consarn , for the inn is my Lord's, and master says he can't pay him hardly no rent if he don't do nothing for it. "
"People would be sorry, I suppose, if Lord Arlington were to go away from here?"
" Ay , surely. It has been a rare thing for the parish him coming and living down here."
"Is he charitable?" inquired the traveller; " does he give away much money ?"
"He gives some sometimes to them as can't work , but he generally gives work to them as can ."
"Is he often seen?"
"Oh -- ay -- you 'll see him most days riding or walking somewhere abouts, but he don't go much off his own ground -- but then that reaches a long way; why it is all my Lord's as far as you can see, and a mile or two afore you came to the village."
"Does he dislike being met or spoken to?"
"Eh! no -- not at all -- at least by them as live about here . He talks a deal to 'em , and knows them well nigh all, I reckon; there an't a gentleman in the land as is freer and pleasantspokener than my Lord, and he isn't stiff and high a bit, and not as they say lords is elsewhere."
"Do any gentlemen of the neighbourhood ever call upon his Lordship?"
"No, Sir, none as I knows of; but there is no gentleman very nigh ; Squire Grufferton is the nighest , and he is about twelve miles off."
"Then Lord Arlington lives quite alone, doesn't he?"
"No, Sir."
"No! and who lives with him?"
"Oh, there's Master Bennet the steward, and there's the butler, and -- "
"Ah! his establishment, his servants; but is there anybody else?"
"No, Sir, nobody as I knows of ."

"Oh, my dear Miss Sybella! you must be deceived -- be assured her ladyship would not listen to a declaration of love from him!" said Mrs. Belmont, pale with anger; yet afraid of further irritating Sybella. "He dared not offend her delicacy with such talk; and no disparagement to you, Miss Sybella, but you know your lugs are not quite right ; and --"
" My what! ma'am -- lugs , do you say? I suppose that is one of your Irish expressions. "
" Well , miss; in plain English I mean to say , that as your ears are bothered , my Bobby might have been talking of you; and you, knowing listeners never hear good of themselves, set it all down to the count of her ladyship."

"No, your honour," said the woman, somewhat subdued, when she saw the formidable appearance of Sir Percy's armed follower, and the graceful but athletic figure of the young man himself, but still speaking in a sulky and discontented voice; -- " no, ye'er honour -- but the shieling was bespoke; howsomever , I wash my hands o't , and, come what may, I shall neither mak' nor meddle i' the stoor ".