tinued to look out of the window. But I leant my head a little on one side to hear what they were talking about. Ah, my dear! what silly things they discussed—how a lady executed the wrong figure in dancing; how a certain Boboff, with his expansive shirt-frill, had looked like a stork and nearly fallen down; how a certain Lidina imagined she had blue eyes when they were really green, etc.
"I do not know, my dear, what special charm she finds in her Mr Teploff, and why she is so delighted with him."
(It seems to me myself that there is something wrong here. It is impossible that this Teploff should bewitch her. We will see further.)
"If this gentleman of the Household pleases her, then she must also be pleased, according to my view, with that official who sits in her papa's writing-room. Ah, my dear, if you know what a figure he is! A regular tortoise!"
(What official does she mean?)
"He has an extraordinary name. He always sits there and mends the pens. His hair looks like a truss of hay. Her papa always employs him instead of a servant."
(I believe this abominable little beast is referring to me. But what has my hair got to do with hay?)
"Sophie can never keep from laughing when she sees him."
