There would hardly be any use in having shops or dressmakers, or anything.

And _certainly_, Monsieur Dudu, I wouldn't choose to be dressed like you, never anything but black--as if one were always going to a funeral." "It is all a matter of taste, Mademoiselle," replied Dudu, so amiably that Hugh wondered more and more at his politeness to Jeanne, who was certainly not very civil to him.

"For my part, I confess I have always had a great fancy for white--the force of contrast, I suppose--and this brings me back to telling you how very nice your great-grandmother and her sister looked that day walking up and down the terrace path in their white dresses." "My great-grandmother!" exclaimed Jeanne.

"Why, you said 'our young ladies.'" "So they were our young ladies," replied Dudu.

"Even though one was your great-grandmother, Mademoiselle, and not yours only but Monsieur Cheri's too, and the other, of course, your great-grand-aunt.