human
Valencia will give me little trouble, I hope. So admirably brought-up a girl, and so handsome as she is, will be sure to marry soon, and marry well, thought Lady Marabout, self-congratulatorily, as she dressed for dinner the day of her niece's arrival in town, running over mentally the qualifications and attractions of Valencia Valletort, while Félicie's successor, Mademoiselle Despréaux, whose crime was then to put pink with cerise, mauve with magenta, and sky-blue with azureline, gave the finishing touches to her toilette--
gpt
Valencia will give me no trouble; she has all the De Boncoeur beauty, with the Valletort dignity. Who would do for her? Let me see; eligible men are not abundant, and those that are eligible are shy of being marked as Philip would say--perhaps from being hunted so much, poor things! There is Fulke Nugent, heir to a barony, and his father is ninety--very rich, too--he would do; and Philip's friend, Caradoc, poor, I know, but their Earldom's the oldest peerage patent. There is Eyre Lee, too; I don't much like the man, supercilious and empty-headed; still he's an unobjectionable alliance. And there is Goodwood. Every one has tried for Goodwood, and failed. I should like Valencia to win him; he is decidedly the most eligible man in town. I will invite him to dinner. If he is not attracted by Valencia's beauty, nothing can attract him----_Despréaux! comme vous êtes bête! Otez ces panaches, de grace!_
human
Valencia will give me no trouble; she will marry at once,
gpt
Not allowed to smoke in the dining-room _now_!
human
A little bit of a flirt, madame--n'est-ce pas, Charlie?
gpt
Reins kept rather tight, eh, old fellow?
human
I must consider, Philip, I have brought out the beauty of the season,