"It is with ten thousand regrets, mademoiselle," he said, many times over, bowing low and simpering, "that I venture to appear in a lady's _salon_--for, after all, wherever a European lady goes, there her _salon_ follows her--in such a _tenue_ as that in which I am now compelled to present myself.

_Mais que voulez-vous?
Nous ne sommes pas a Paris_!" For to M.Peyron, as innocent in his way as Mali herself, the whole world divided itself into Paris and the Provinces.
Nevertheless, it was touching to both the new-comers to see the Frenchman's delight at meeting once more with civilized beings.

"Figure to yourself, mademoiselle," he said, with true French effusion--"figure to yourself the joy and surprise with which I, this morning, receive monsieur, your friend, at my humble cottage! For the first time after nine years on this hateful island, I see again a European face; I hear again the sound, the beautiful sound of that charming French language.

My emotion, believe me, was too profound for words.

When monsieur was gone, I retired to my hut, I sat down on the floor, I gave myself over to tears, tears of joy and gratitude, to think I should once more catch a glimpse of civilization! This afternoon, I ask myself, can I venture to go out and pay my respects, thus attired, in these rags, to a European lady?
For a long time I doubt, I wonder, I hesitate.