“I assure you, Cressy, as a married woman, I can give you much better advice now than in former days, when I was silly as yourself. You had better confide in me.”
“I have nothing to confide,” replied Crescenz, diligently biting the before mentioned blue thread border of her handkerchief.
“Well, if you don’t choose to be confiding, perhaps you will be communicative, and tell me who is that very tall, very young, and singularly handsome man talking to your father near the window?”
“That’s he,” said Crescenz, blushing.
“Who?”
“The Englishman.”
“What Englishman?”
“The Englishman that we met at Seon.”
“So!” whistled, rather than exclaimed, the Doctor’s wife.
“So!—hem!—a—some excuse for a little sentiment, I must allow, Cressy. How does he happen to be here this evening?”