“He’s so thoughtful and considerate,” he declared to Babbie one morning. “My invitation to the countess’s dance came this morning.” He held out a daintily engraved card. “What did he do but write to his sister to see if I might bring you along. No, I didn’t suggest it. It was all his own idea. He said that his sister would be the only woman there who spoke English, and as the guest of honor she’ll be busy of course. And as I can’t ‘parlez-vous’ one small word, he’s afraid I’ll be bored--or a bore. Would you come?”