“She’s devilish grave, though,” said Frank, pouring the basin full of water.
“Remember, Frank, what she has so recently passed through,” said I; “she is really bright when she can forget her bereavement; then, too, she is contrasted here with Lulie, who is all life and gaiety.”
“Ah!” said Frank, wiping the words out of his mouth with the towel, “Lulie is the star after all. If she just had Carlotta’s beauty she would break all your hearts. I wonder what she meant, though, by being so confoundedly sour towards me. I believe I’ll try a little game with Carlotta, any way, and see what grit she is made of, if for nothing more than to pique Lulie.”
“Frank, you forget Carlotta is my sister, now,” I said, gravely enough to let him see that I was in earnest, yet not enough so to offend him, as he was my guest.
“Pardons, mille pardons, monsieur,” he replied, folding a clean collar, and nodding to me gaily.
“Frank,” said Ned, dusting his hat, “you are terribly conceited. How do you know that your attentions to Miss Rurleston will pique Lulie?”
“Oh, that’s my biz, you know,” returned Frank, shutting one eye at him; “but I am afraid we are keeping Mrs. Smith’s breakfast waiting; let’s go down.”
As we reached the basement stairs Lulie called me out to the porch, while Ned and Frank went down. She was very much agitated as she said:
“John, I must go home to-morrow.”
“Go home, Lulie!”