"What will
the Vidame say, Kit?"
She dropped her kerchief from her face, and turned so pale that I
was sorry I had spoken--apart from the kick Croisette gave me.
"Is M. de Bezers at his house?" she asked anxiously.
"Yes" Croisette answered. "He came in last night from St.
Antonin, with very small attendance."
The news seemed to set her fears at rest instead of augmenting
them as I should have expected. I suppose they were rather for
Louis de Pavannes, than for herself. Not unnaturally, too, for
even the Wolf could scarcely have found it in his heart to hurt
our cousin. Her slight willowy figure, her pale oval face and
gentle brown eyes, her pleasant voice, her kindness, seemed to us
boys and in those days, to sum up all that was womanly. We could
not remember, not even Croisette the youngest of us--who was
seventeen, a year junior to Marie and myself--we were twins--the
time when we had not been in love with her.
But let me explain how we four, whose united ages scarce exceeded
seventy years, came to be lounging on the terrace in the holiday
stillness of that afternoon.
Pages:
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26