Monsieur Leroy disappeared with an alacrity which suggested that the plan had been arranged beforehand.
"Take Mademoiselle Palladio round the garden, Guido," said the Princess. "We will walk a little before the house till you come back. It is drier here."
Guido must have been dull indeed if he had not at last understood why he had been made to come, and what was expected of him. He was annoyed, and raised his eyebrows a little.
"Will you come, Mademoiselle?" he asked coldly.
"Yes," answered Cecilia in a constrained tone, for she understood as well as Guido himself.
Her mother was often afraid of her, and had not dared to tell her that the whole object of their visit was that she should see Guido and be seen by him. She thought that the Princess was really pushing matters too hastily, considering the time-honoured traditions of Latin etiquette, which forbid that young people should be left alone together for a moment, even when engaged to be married. But the Countess had great faith in the correctness of anything which such a very high-born person as the Princess Anatolie chose to suggest, and as the latter held her by the arm with affectionate condescension, she could not possibly run after her daughter.
The two moved away in silence towards the flower garden, and soon disappeared round the corner of the house.
"The roses are pretty," said Guido, apologetically. "My aunt likes people to see them."
"They are magnificent," answered Cecilia, without enthusiasm, and after a suitable interval.
They went on, along a narrow gravel path, and though there was really room enough for Guido to walk by her side, he pretended that there was not, and followed her. She was very graceful, and he would not have thought of denying it. He even looked at her as she went before him, and he noticed the fact; but after he had taken cognisance of it, he was quite as indifferent as before. He no longer thought her voice pleasant, in his resentment at finding that a trap had been laid for him.