'We shall soon meet in Paris, I hope,' said Captain Dancy. 'Simpson and
I are going to run over next week. I should like to assist in showing
you some of the lions, Mrs Howel Jenkins,'
'Lions! name o' goodness don't tak' her to see them!' exclaims Mrs
Jenkins, now put off her guard by fear.
'Ah! you have not that Welsh figure; it means--' began Miss Simpson, but
she was interrupted by Mr Simpson proposing the health of the bride and
bridegroom.
The breakfast went off very well, and the champagne went round only too
often; ladies as well as gentlemen were flushed by this exhilarating
beverage, and Mrs Griffith Jenkins was beginning to be very voluble on
the subject of 'my son Howels,' when that gentleman gave her a look that
silenced her, and that reminded Netta that he had told her to look at
Lady Simpson when it was time for her to put on her travelling-dress.
The ladies went to their retiring-room, whilst the gentlemen drank more
champagne, and arranged various Parisian amusements.
It was understood that, as Howel had no friends to leave behind him for
the final settlement of lodgings and the like, his guests were to depart
before he and his bride left. They accordingly took their leave as soon
as Netta reappeared in fashionable travelling costume.
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