"Yes," and now she gave a soft, answering smile, as if there might be a mysterious understanding between them. Miladi was often ennuied, now that she was never really well, and the sight and voice of a young man cheered her inexplicably.
"Every one knows her. She is the most fearless thing."
"I remember her when she was very little. How tall she has grown. A very pretty girl."
"Youth always has a prettiness. It is the roundness and coloring. I often long to go back and have it all over again. I should remain in France. I do not see what there is in this bleak country to charm one."
"There was some talk of your going with my sister, was there not?"
"Yes. But I was too ill. And M. Destournier thought he could not leave. He has many interests here."
Rose re-entered the room.
"I never tasted such delicious plums," the elder commented, in a pleased tone. "I want some saved as long as they will keep."
"There is a quantity of them. I should have had to make another journey but for M. Boullé," and she dropped a charming little courtesy.
"We might see if we could not find another tree."