There is a soft rustle in the hall. Madame has come down in advance of Laura. The carriage stands waiting to take them to the station.
Floyd bites his lips in annoyance. Since they left Devonshire, Cecil has scarcely been an hour out of his sight save when asleep. He cannot take her now,—the thought is absurd.
"No, my dear. It would not amuse a little girl, and I shall be too busy. Do not be naughty," he entreats.
"I want to go with you. I will not stay here!"
"Cecil!"
"I will run away," she says, daringly. "I will not look at pictures nor walk with Jane."
"Then you will be naughty, and papa cannot love you," bending his face down to hers. "I shall not be glad to come back to a little girl who will not please or obey me."
"Take me, then!" There is a great, dry sob in her throat.
If only Madame Lepelletier were away! His experience with children is so very limited, that he is almost weak enough to yield to this sweet tyranny.
"Kiss me." Eugene has driven around with his horse and the buggy.