"I am so glad to have an opportunity to see him, as I have heard so much
of him, and have seen a great many of his pictures in Germany."
This I repeated to Beaumont, and it seemed to please him very much.
When we left, Beaumont said to him, showing him the sketch, "Would you
like this?"
The officer answered in the most perfect French, "I shall always keep it
as a precious souvenir"; and added, "May I not have a sketch of my nurse?"
(meaning me).
Beaumont thought that it was rather presuming on the part of the officer
to ask for it, and seemed annoyed. However, he made a hasty drawing and
gave it to him, saying in his blunt way, "I hope this will please you."
The officer thanked him profusely, and we left. Turning to me he said: "I
have not profited much by this visit. I have given, but not taken anything
away."
"But the experience," I ventured to say.
"Oh yes, the experience; but that I did not need."
In the evening we had one of our drowsy games of whist, made up of
Countess B----, our neighbor opposite, brought across the street in her
sedan-chair (she never walks), Mr. Moulton, myself, and Beaumont making
the sleepy fourth. Neither of our guests speaks English with anything like
facility, but they make frantic efforts to carry on the game in English,
as Mr. Moulton has never learned the game in French and only uses English
terms.
Mr. Moulton always plays with Countess B----, and I always play with
Beaumont; we never change partners.
This is the kind of game we play:
It takes Beaumont a very long time to arrange his cards, which he does in
a unique way, being goaded on by Mr. Moulton's impatient "Well!" He picks
out all the cards of one suit and he lays them downward on the table in a
pile; then he gathers them up and puts them between the third and fourth
fingers of his left hand. With the next suit he does likewise, placing
them between the second and third fingers, and so on, until the grand
_finale,_ when the fingers loosen and the cards amalgamate. During this
process his cards fall every few minutes on the floor, occasioning much
delay, as they have all to be arranged again.
It is my deal; I turn up a heart. The Countess is on my left. We wait with
impatience for her to play, but she seems only to be contemplating her
cards.
"Well!" says Mr. Moulton, impatiently.