"You have lived long in Paris?" I asked.
"Since I came there first to boarding-school," she answered. "A little child I was, with my hair in pigtails and frocks to my knees. I have learned to think, somehow, that Paris is my home. What I have heard of South America I do not love. I wish very much that my uncle would stay here."
"There is no chance of that, I suppose?" I asked.
"I think not," she answered. "In South America he is a very important man. They speak of him one day as President."
"Had you any idea," I asked, "that he had enemies over here?"
She shook her head.
"It is not that," she said. "We will not talk of it just now. It is not that he has enemies, but he has very, very important business to arrange, and there are some who do not think as he thinks about it. Shall we talk about something else, Capitaine Rotherby? Tell me about your friends or relations, and where you live? I would like so much to know everything."
"I am afraid there is not much to tell," I answered. "You see I am what is called over here a younger son. I have a brother who owns the house in which I was born, and all that sort of thing, and I have had to go out into the world and look for my fortune. So far," I continued, "I can't say that I have been very successful."
"You are poor, then?" she asked timidly.
"I am not rich," I answered. "Still, on the whole, I suppose for a bachelor I am comfortably off. Then my brother has no sons, and his health is always delicate. I do not count on that, of course, but I might have to succeed him."