“No, no,” I protested laughingly, “it is no fault of the baron; we have been talking very livelily.”
I took leave of my father and the doctor—Tilling begged to be permitted to see me into my carriage. It was he who put my cloak on in the ante-room and gave me his arm down the steps. As we went down he stopped for a moment and asked me seriously:—
“Once more, countess, have I anyhow offended you?”
“No; on my honour.”
“Then I am pacified.”
When he put me into the carriage he pressed my hand hard and put it to his lips.
“When may I wait on you?”
“On Saturday I am——”
“At home—I understand—not at all then.”
He bowed and stepped back.