"Do you think, Miss----?" began Susan.
"Think what?"
"Your letter, Miss ... my letter. Do you think that perhaps it was too ... loving?"
"And what if it was?" I retorted. "He's got the letter by now, hasn't he? He's got it, and it can't be altered."
Susan wept afresh.
"Oh, Miss!" she moaned. "If only we was at Traxelby I wouldn't mind. But it's dreadful!"
A plan occurred to me.
"Wait here," I said, "while I go and speak to Madame."
Within a quarter of an hour it was all arranged. I told Madame that an Englishman from the next parish to my own would arrive to-morrow night. Madame is the pink of propriety; and she had nothing but approval for my scheme of taking Susan and Georgette to the Villa de la Mer for the time of Ruddington's stay. I took it upon myself to declare that the newcomer will go away again on Sunday; and I am not sure that I shall allow him to remain so long.
The Dupoiriers had made the villa beautifully sweet and clean in the hope of attracting one more end-of-the-season tenant. There was hardly anything that needed to be done. Madame has sent down a great hamper of linen, and two baskets of provisions, and a pudgy little baby cask of cider. And here we are.