"Mother!" she echoed,—"mother! why do you call me by that name?" "Because you are my mother. "Is your father alive?" "No," returned Thames; "he was assassinated while I was an infant. Oh! I'm in such a fluster!" Upon which, she snatched up her fan, cast a look into the glass, smoothed down her scarf, threw a soft expression into her features, and led the way into the next room, whither she was followed by her daughter and Thames Darrell. ‘What’s this? Impertinence! French manners, is it?’ ‘Grace à vous,’ Melusine threw at him fiercely.
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