"Thank you, Mrs. Vervain; I could have gone before, if I'd thought you
would have liked it," answered the painter.

"Oh nonsense, now," returned the lady. "You know what I mean. I'm
perfectly delighted with him," she continued, getting Ferris to one
side, "and I _know_ he must have a good accent. So very kind of
you. Will you arrange with him about the pay?--such a _shame_!
Thanks. Then I needn't say anything to him about that. I'm so glad I
had him to breakfast the first day; though Florida thought not. Of
course, one needn't keep it up. But seriously, it isn't an ordinary
case, you know."

Ferris laughed at her with a sort of affectionate disrespect, and said
good-by. Don Ippolito lingered for a while to talk over the proposed
lessons, and then went, after more elaborate adieux. Mrs. Vervain
remained thoughtful a moment before she said:--

"That was rather droll, Florida."

"What, mother?"

"His cutting his meat into small bites, before he began to eat. But
perhaps it's the Venetian custom. At any rate, my dear, he's a
gentleman in virtue of his profession, and I couldn't do less than ask
him to breakfast. He has beautiful manners; and if he must take snuff,
I suppose it's neater to carry two handkerchiefs, though it does look
odd. I wish he wouldn't take snuff."

"I don't see why we need care, mother. At any fate, we cannot help it."