“No, not in Zurich.—Naturally in Lucerne; here that first day, out there where the Quai lies so still in to-night’s darkness. When you have spoken first to me I have decided, and from that hour on it is become only stronger, never less sure.”
She was drawn to lay her two arms about his neck and to listen breathlessly to his recital.
“If you had been rich and I nobody, it had been so simple to marry you, perhaps; but being myself somebody, I cannot risk anything. It is so easy to marry an American when one desires but her money, but when one has also money and desires to marry, voilà ce qui est difficile. It was for that that I go to the Gare with that man of Zurich,—ah, he has surely serve us well, that Zuricher man,—and I get of him the address of your uncle, and then I may write to that uncle and beg that one be sent over who will have full power to arrange for you, if I can ever bring you to say ‘Yes.’” He stopped and his voice sank. “I could not be sure that you would say ‘Yes’ ever,” he continued softly; “but in your eyes, even at first, I have thought to find a hope.”
“Go on,” she whispered, touching his lips very lightly with her own.
“I am cabled to Leipsic that your cousin will arrive at Hâvre, and we meet there.”
Rosina’s head flew upward suddenly.
“You met Jack!”
“But certainly. We go together to Dinard that he may meet all my family, and then we go to Cassel, where there is a castle to us, and to hunt in the Schwarzwald, and then he has written to America that I am quite rich and most honest, and of a real love for you; and when there has come an answer of your uncle, then I return to Munich to you.”
“And I never knew a thing about any of it!”
“Ah, ma chérie, pour l’instant on n’avait pas besoin de toi,” he reminded her, smiling.