He was gone as brusquely as he came.
“Mother! sister!” cried Josephine, “help me to love this man.”
“You need no help,” cried the baroness, with enthusiasm, “not love him, we should all be monsters.”
Raynal came to supper looking bright and cheerful. “No more work to-day. I have nothing to do but talk; fancy that.”
This evening Josephine de Beaurepaire, who had been silent and thoughtful, took a quiet opportunity, and purred in his ear, “Monsieur!”
“Mademoiselle!” rang the trombone.
“Am I not to go to Egypt?”
“No.”
Josephine drew back at this brusque reply like a sensitive plant. But she returned to the attack.
“But is it not a wife’s duty to be by her husband’s side to look after his comfort—to console him when others vex him—to soothe him when he is harassed?”