“How is she?”
“She is not well.”
“Is she not coming?”
“Did you expect her?”
Madame Duvernoy reddened, and replied, with a certain constraint:
“I only meant that since you are at Paris, is she not coming to join you?”
“No.”
I looked at Prudence; she cast down her eyes, and I read in her face the fear of seeing my visit prolonged.
“I even came to ask you, my dear Prudence, if you have nothing to do this evening, to go and see Marguerite; you will be company for her, and you can stay the night. I never saw her as she was to-day, and I am afraid she is going to be ill.”
“I am dining in town,” replied Prudence, “and I can’t go and see Marguerite this evening. I will see her tomorrow.”