"I had no concrete idea. Just to see the world and buy what I wanted, and sit up late—and not have to obey any rules, I think—and underneath there was a great excitement all the time in the thought of looking perfectly splendid in being a grand grown-up lady when you came back—for of course I believed then that we must meet again."
"Well, what changed all that and made you become engaged to Henry, you wicked little thing!" and Michael kissed her fondly—"Was it because I did not come back?—but you could have cabled to me at any time."
An enchanting confusion crept over Sabine—she hesitated—she began to speak, then stopped and finally buried her face in his coat.
"What is it, darling?" he asked with almost a tone of anxiety in his voice. "Did you have some violent flirtation with someone at this stage? and you think I shall be annoyed—but indeed I shall not, because I do fully realize that whatever you did was my fault for leaving you alone—Tell me, Sabine, you sweet child."
"No—it wasn't that——"
"Well—then?"
"Well—then I was—terrified—it was my old maid, Simone, who told me what had happened—I was still too ignorant to understand things."
"Told you what? What wretched story did the old woman invent about me?" Michael's eyes were haughty—that she could listen to stories from a maid!
Sabine clasped her hands together—she was deeply moved.
"Oh, Michael—you are stupid! How can I possibly tell you—if you won't understand."