Paul.
In the greatest excitement and good-humour, our host at the dessert made
us des speech. He carried a toast to the charming Ethel, another to the
charming Mistriss Laura, another to his good fren', his brave frren', his
'appy fren', Pendennis--'appy as possessor of such a wife, 'appy as
writer of works destined to the immortality, etc. etc. The little
children round about clapped their happy little hands, and laughed and
crowed in chorus. And now the nursery and its guardians were about to
retreat, when Florac said he had yet a speech, yet a toast--and he bade
the butler pour wine into every one's glass--yet a toast--and he carried
it to the health of our dear friends, of Clive and his father,--the good,
the brave Colonel! "We who are happy," says he, "shall we not think of
those who are good? We who love each other, shall we not remember those
whom we all love?" He spoke with very great tenderness and feeling. "Ma
bonne mere, thou too shalt drink this toast!" he said, taking his
mother's hand, and kissing it.
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