"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?"

I failed to understand the question.

"I mean, is she or is she not a bore? Can she speak Russian?
When this De Griers was in Moscow he soon learnt to make himself
understood."

I explained to the old lady that Mlle. Blanche had never visited
Russia.

"Bonjour, then," said Madame, with sudden brusquerie.

"Bonjour, madame," replied Mlle. Blanche with an elegant,
ceremonious bow as, under cover of an unwonted modesty, she
endeavoured to express, both in face and figure, her extreme
surprise at such strange behaviour on the part of the
Grandmother.

"How the woman sticks out her eyes at me! How she mows and