“Come, Lucette. Let the rose make our peace. I have been thinking of you through all my long ride.”
She came slowly toward him, parting the bushes and playing at indifference.
“It is my rose, if you please, m’sieu.”
“But you meant it for me,” and he kissed it and then tried to take her hands. But she drew back.
“Do we know each other, m’sieu?”
His answer was a smile and an attempt to take her in his arms. But she would not let him. Seeing his mood, she could not resist a chance to tease him further.
“Have you forgotten what you said last night? Did you not ride off this morning without a word—a single word? Do you think I forgive so easily, and forget?”
“I can answer that, Denys,” said Gabrielle, stepping out now from her place of concealment. She was anxious to end the quarrel and learn the news he brought. “She has forgiven you and is sorry for what she did. She has been heart-broken all the morning at your absence.”
“Gabrielle, I——” began Lucette in protest.
“It is true, Denys, every word. So make your peace with her. Come, Lucette, be true to yourself.”