"Eric Dernburg has something besides roses to offer you--his hand. He has just had a talk with me, and is now going to address himself to you."
The young lady likewise heard this news without any surprise.
She turned her head to one side, that she might see how the flower looked in her hair, and asked with apparent indifference:
"So soon?"
"Soon? Why, I have been expecting a declaration from him this long while, and he would have made it, too, only you seem to have given him poor encouragement."
A fold appeared between Cecilia's brows, exactly in the same spot where a deep furrow had seamed her brother's.
"If he were only not so abominably tiresome!" murmured she.
"Cecilia, you know that I am anxious for this marriage, exceedingly anxious, and I hope that you will regulate your conduct accordingly."
His tone was very positive, seeming to preclude any chance of opposition on the part of his sister, who now pushed away the rest of the roses with a gesture of impatience.
"Why had it to be this Dernburg, and no one else? Vicomte de Marville is much handsomer, much more agreeable----"