"Monsieur will have supper." They both spoke English excellently, nearly as well as they spoke French and German; and they bustled about and made him comfortable.

At supper he sat next to me, and I talked to him.
"Tell me," I said--I was curious on the subject--"what language was it you spoke when you first came in ?" "German," he explained.
"Oh," I replied, "I beg your pardon." "You did not understand it ?" he continued.
"It must have been my fault," I answered; "my knowledge is extremely limited.

One picks up a little here and there as one goes about, but of course that is a different thing." "But _they_ did not understand it," he replied, "the landlord and his wife; and it is their own language." "I do not think so," I said.

"The children hereabout speak German, it is true, and our landlord and landlady know German to a certain point.

But throughout Alsace and Lorraine the old people still talk French." "And I spoke to them in French also," he added, "and they understood that no better." "It is certainly very curious," I agreed.
"It is more than curious," he replied; "in my case it is incomprehensible.