The young man drew his chair a thought nearer. Conversation was rippling all around them; they were isolated in a sea of chatter.
"I will tell you a secret," he said. "I can tell you in French, but you must promise me to forget it in English."
"Very well, I promise."
"You remember, Mademoiselle, that we were late yesterday, M. votre père and I, because M. Hungerford's horse cast a shoe as we came back."
Horatia nodded.
"And how you blamed the groom of M. Hungerford or the blacksmith? Eh bien, I alone was to blame!"
Miss Grenville opened astonished eyes. "I do not understand you, Monsieur. You did not shoe the horse; and you did not make the shoe come off on purpose."
"Mais si, si, si!" reiterated the young Frenchman, his eyes sparkling. "Peccavi nimis, cogitatione, verbo, et opere. I loosened the nails before I left the hillside!"
"But why?"
"I am not sure that I dare tell you, after all! But you have promised me absolution. Eh bien, I wanted to make sure of ... in other words, I thought I would force M. le Recteur to ask me to luncheon.... You are not annoyed?"