"Then I'll put it plainer. Go, if you dare, Count Gustav;" and I challenged him in look as well as words.
"I am always anxious to oblige a pretty woman, Miss Gilmore," he said, with one of his most gracious glances.
"That's very sweet of you, Count. But the question is not my looks; it's your reputation and position."
At this point Madame d'Artelle made a diversion.
"I am not feeling well, Christabel, and am going to my room to lie down," she said, rising.
"That's just what I would have suggested, Henrietta," I answered, fastening on her action. "It's just as well. I have to say some things to Count Gustav that he might not care for even you to hear."
He made a great show of opening the door for her to pass and used the moment's delay to think.
Just as she went out the footman came to the door, carrying the parcel.
"Do you want me, Peter?" she asked.
"No, Madame, Miss Gilmore. The parcel you asked for, miss." I took it and he went out and closed the door.