CHAPTER III
At the end of a fortnight, Elizabeth had become more reconciled to her life and surroundings at Madame Martineau's than at first had seemed possible to her. At the end of a month she had fully recognized the wisdom of Miss Baring's philosophy, who, in speaking of the three Frenchmen, said—
"You must take these people as you find them. It is of no use our coming with our English or American ideas, and expecting to find they obtain here. Among Frenchmen, especially of the second class (I dare say of the upper class also, but I know nothing about them), there is often something that must be connived at in their talk. They are good-humoured; there is scarcely a subject under the sun they cannot discuss, and upon many they are well informed. Unfortunately, in the desire to be amusing, they are often coarse, and in their innuendoes and suggestions are unrestrained by any sense of propriety. Well, one must just turn a deaf ear—that is all; pretend one doesn't understand."
"As a matter of fact, I very often don't," said Elizabeth. "But when I see Madame de Belcour laugh, it makes me angry. Now, do you think Madame de Belcour a nice woman?"
