“And no one will ever be such a friend to me as you, Bride. You and Aimée Magnay and I will always keep up with each other, whatever happens.”
“Talking of Aimée reminds me that I heard from her this morning,” said Bride. “She says that in September they are all going to Auvergne; her father has some commission for a picture. They will stay at Mabillon all the autumn and perhaps even for Christmas. Cousin Espérance thinks I had better come too for the sake of perfecting my French, but I’m not sure that I could leave Dermot.”
“Take him with you,” suggested Evereld. “The sunshine and the warmth down there would exactly suit him.”
“Why, I never thought of that. It would be a splendid idea, and the Magnays are so kind-hearted. I know they have lots of room, too, in that rambling old chateau. Don’t you remember the little picture of it that Aimée had in our bedroom at school? Come, after all things are not so dark. You will always be my friend in spite of Mr. Denmead, and perhaps later on when you are engaged there will be a regular row and you will have to come to us.”
“You look as if you quite longed for the row,” said Evereld smiling wistfully. “I wish I had a little of the love of fighting which you Irish people seem to have such stores of. How would you face an angry guardian under the circumstances, I wonder.”
“I should listen patiently to all his objections. Then I should say, ‘Now hear my side of the case,’ and if he wasn’t convinced by my burning eloquence why I should inevitably lose my temper and we should part on the worst of terms. Oh, I should love to have a quarrel with Sir Matthew Mactavish. It’s a pity we can’t change places just for that time.”
“Well, don’t let us talk about it till it comes,” said Evereld with a little shiver. “When I am quite my own mistress perhaps the mere fact of being independent will make me dislike the thought of the discussion less. After all, nothing will really matter when we are engaged; one will be too busy thinking of the life that will so soon begin.”
They were interrupted by a knock at the door.
“I want that naughty little sister of mine,” said Mrs. Hereford, looking in with a smiling face. “Mollie declares there is no getting her invalid to sleep while you two chatterboxes are overhead.”
“Evil take the Coercion Act that made him an invalid,” said Bride, gathering up her belongings and bidding her friend good-night.