to create a sensation by showing off his learning, took it into her
head to have his tutor put him through an examination in history.

"Interrogate my son upon some of his recent lessons in history," said
she to the tutor, who was not at all loth to show his own attainments
by the brilliancy of his pupil.

"Come, now, Monsieur le Marquis," said the tutor with alacrity, "Quem
habuit successorem Belus rex Assiriorum?" (Whom did Belus, king of the
Assyrians, have for successor?)

It so happened that the tutor had taught the boy to pronounce the
Latin language after the Italian fashion. Wherefore, when the lad
answered "Ninum," who was really the successor of Belus, king of the
Assyrians, he pronounced the last two letters "um" like the French
nasal "on," which gave the name of the Assyrian king the same sound as
that of Ninon de l'Enclos, the terrible bête noir of the jealous
Marquise. This was enough to set her off into a spasm of fury against
the luckless tutor, who could not understand why he should be so
berated over a simple question and its correct answer. The Marquise
not understanding Latin, and guided only by the sound of the answer,
which was similar to the name of her hated rival, jumped at the
conclusion that he was answering some question about Ninon de
l'Enclos.

"You are giving my son a fine education," she snapped out before all
her guests, "by entertaining him with the follies of his father. From
the answer of the young Marquis I judge of the impertinence of your
question. Go, leave my sight, and never enter it again."