"Nothing more likely," replied the Colonel. "Our name, if I may be excused for saying so, is pretty well known in most parts of the island."
"And you have very lately arrived in Paris, I presume?" said Rochechouart, "avec Mademoiselle votre fille."
"Miss Jones is my niece," replied the Colonel. "We arrived three days since, and are lodging at the Hotel Marbeuf, Rue St. Honoré."
"Where I hope Mademoiselle will permit me the honour of paying my respects," returned Rochechouart, handing his card to the Colonel.
"We shall be particularly happy," returned the Colonel; and with another elegant salutation, Rochechouart retreated, and joined his companions.
"Eh bien!" cried D'Armagnac, "I'll bet you haven't learnt the name of this divinity."
"Then you'll lose," returned the Duke. "Her name is Jons—she's the niece of the man that accompanies her—she arrived three days since, and she lodges at the Hotel Marboeuf, where to-morrow I shall have the honour of presenting myself."
"Diable!" cried D'Armagnac; "et vous savez tout cela déja!"
