"If you please, Damoiselle, your noble sister says that the Lady Umberge will be here for the spice this afternoon, and your Excellence is aware that she likes maccaroons."
Yes, I am—better than I like her. I never did see anybody eat so many at once as she does. She will do for once with cheesecakes. I would not mind staying up all night to make maccaroons for Guy, but I am sure cheesecakes are good enough for Umberge. And Alix does make good cheese-cakes—I will give her that scrap of praise.
"Well, Héloïse—I don't know. I really think we should do. But I suppose—is there time to make them now?"
"If you please, Damoiselle, it is three o'clock by the sundial."
"Then it is too late."
And I thought, but of course I did not say to Héloïse,—How Alix will scold! I heard her step on the stairs, and I fairly ran. But I did not lose my lecture.
"Elaine!" cried Alix's shrill voice, "where are you?"
Alix might be a perfect stranger, for the way in which she always calls me you. I came out. I knew it was utterly useless to try to hide.
"Where have you put those new maccaroons?"
"They are not made, Alix," I said, trying to look as if I did not care.