“Mdlle. wished to speak with me, monsieur.”
“Indeed! on what subject? if one may ask.”
“Mademoiselle talked about nothing, monsieur.”
“A fertile topic! and did she discourse thereon in the schoolroom, before the pupils?”
“No; like you, monsieur, she asked me to walk into her parlour.”
“And Madame Reuter—the old duenna—my mother’s gossip, was there, of course?”
“No, monsieur; I had the honour of being quite alone with mademoiselle.”
“C’est joli—cela,” observed M. Pelet, and he smiled and looked into the fire.
“Honi soit qui mal y pense,” murmured I, significantly.
“Je connais un peu ma petite voisine—voyez-vous.”