For a little while she forgot everything but her companion. In that soft hour he won her to name the day, after her fashion.
“Josephine goes to Paris with the doctor in about three weeks,” murmured she.
“And you will stay behind, all alone?”
“Alone? that shall depend on you, monsieur.”
On this Edouard caught her for the first time in his arms.
She made a faint resistance.
“Seal me that promise, sweet one!”
“No! no!—there!”
He pressed a delicious first kiss upon two velvet lips that in their innocence scarcely shunned the sweet attack.
For all that, the bond was no sooner sealed after this fashion, than the lady’s cheek began to burn.