“Goodness gracious me!” exclaimed Anastasie. “My king of lodgers a royal highness! Oh, dear, here’s a pretty go! And I asked him to mind the lodge for me. Oh, pardon! Pardon! Pardon!” And then, carried away by the excess of her reverence and regret for having so undervalued a prince, though a disguised one, Madame Pipelet placed her cap on her head, as though she imagined herself in the presence of royalty.
Alfred, on the contrary, manifested his respect for royalty in a manner diametrically the reverse of the form adopted by his wife. Snatching off his hat, that hat which had never before been seen to quit his head, he commenced bowing to empty space, as though standing in the presence of the august personage he apostrophised, while he exclaimed, “Have I, then, been honoured by a visit f
