“Oh! yes, beautiful.”
“Our flowers still smell sweet.”
“Oh! very sweet.”
And even as they uttered those trivial sentences, their voices trembled at the thought of what was about to be said.
At last the little low chair moved a little nearer the great easy-chair; their eyes met, their fingers were intertwined, and the two, in low tones, slowly called each other by their names.
“Desiree!”
“Frantz!”
At that moment there was a knock at the door.
It was the soft little tap of a daintily gloved hand which fears to soil itself by the slightest touch.
“Come in!” said Desiree, with a slight gesture of impatience; and Sidonie appeared, lovely, coquettish, and affable. She had come to see her little Zizi, to embrace her as she was passing by. She had been meaning to come for so long.