“Then he is a little scurrilous traitor,” cried Rose, turning very red. “So that is how he talks of me behind my back, and calls me an angel to my face; I’ll pay him for this. Do tell me, commandant; never mind what HE says.”
“What! disobey orders?”
“Orders? to you from that boy!”
“Oh!” said Raynal, “for that matter, we soldiers are used to command one moment, and obey the next.”
In a word, this military pedant was impracticable, and Rose gave him up in disgust, and began to call up a sulky look when the other two sang his praises. For the old lady pronounced him charming, and Josephine said he was a man of crystal; never said a word he did not mean, and she wished she was like him. But the baroness thought this was going a little too far.
“No, thank you,” said she hastily; “he is a man, a thorough man. He would make an intolerable woman. A fine life if one had a parcel of women about, all blurting out their real minds every moment, and never smoothing matters.”
“Mamma, what a horrid picture!” chuckled Rose.
She then proposed that at his next visit they should all three make an earnest appeal to him to let them know what Edouard had decided.
But Josephine begged to be excused, feared it would be hardly delicate; and said languidly that for her part she felt they were in good hands, and prescribed patience. The baroness acquiesced, and poor Rose and her curiosity were baffled on every side.
At last, one fine day, her torments were relieved without any further exertion on her part. Jacintha bounced into the drawing-room with a notice that the commandant wanted to speak to Josephine a minute out in the Pleasaunce.