"She has said she did," was the cautious response.
"Then, if she loves some one, we have only to find out who it is and bring them together, and get them to understand each other, and help them to fix the day. Would not that be charming?"
"Yes, very," replied M. de Bois; but he sighed as he spoke, remembering how improbable it was that anything of the kind would take place.
Bertha had a suspicion that he must have some knowledge of Madeleine's mysterious lover, and her idea of the perfect confidence that ought to exist not only between husband and wife, but a lover and his betrothed bride, would of itself have been sufficient inducement to make her endeavor to discover the secret.
"You have been near Madeleine all these years that she has been lost to us."
"Yes, happily for me; and if she can only say happily for her, I should be proud as well as thankful."
"She does,—I am sure she does say so," responded Bertha, affectionately. "What could she have done without you? It was because you were so much to Madeleine that you became so much to—to—that is so—so—I mean"—
Many a sentence of Gaston's had she finished when his words became entangled through confusion; it was but a fair return for him to conclude this one of hers, though perhaps he did so in a manner that added to her embarrassment.
Bertha recovered herself, and shook back her curls as though they were in fault. Then looking up archly in Gaston's face she said,—
"And if I wanted an excuse for what I have done, could I have found a better?"