I used to practise it at school with the dancing-master.

Enter DAMAS.

Damas. Good morning, cousin Deschappelles.--Well, Pauline, are you
recovered from last night's ball?--So many triumphs must be
very fatiguing. Even M. Glavis sighed most piteously when you departed;
but that might be the effect of the supper.

Pauline. M. Glavis, indeed!

Mme. Deschap. M. Glavis?--as if my daughter would think of M. Glavis!

Damas. Hey-day!--why not?--His father left him a very pretty fortune,
and his birth is higher than yours, cousin Deschappelles. But perhaps
you are looking to M. Beauseant,--his father was a marquis
before the Revolution.

Pauline. M. Beauseant!--Cousin, you delight in tormenting me!

Mme. Deschap. Don't mind him, Pauline!--Cousin Damas, you have
no susceptibility of feeling,--there is a certain indelicacy
in all your ideas.--M. Beauseant knows already that he is no match
for my daughter!

Damas. Pooh! pooh! one would think you intended your daughter
to marry a prince!

Mme. Deschap. Well, and if I did?--what then?--Many a foreign prince--