In the Days of My Youth: A Novel

by Amelia B. Edwards

I sighed heavily, and caressed the little hand with both of mine.

"And are you very penitent?"

I expressed my penitence by another prodigious sigh, and ventured, this time, to kiss the tips of the dainty fingers.

"Ciel!" exclaimed the lady. "You have shaved off your beard! What can have induced you to do such a thing?"

My beard, indeed! Alas! I would have given any money for even a moustache! However, the fatal moment was come when I must speak.

"Mon cher ange," I began, trying a hoarse whisper, "I--I--the fact is--a bet--"

"A bet indeed! The idea of sacrificing such a handsome beard for a mere bet! I never heard of anything so foolish. But how hoarse you are, Hippolyte!"

"All within the last hour," whispered I. "I was caught in the storm, just now, and ..."

"And have taken cold, for my sake! Alas! my poor, dear friend, why did you wait to speak to me? Why did you not go home at once, and change your clothes? Your sleeve, I declare, is still quite damp! Hippolyte, if you fall ill, I shall never forgive myself!"

I kissed her hand again. It was much pleasanter than whispering, and expressed all that was necessary.