“Ah, Mademoiselle Valerie,” said Madame Gironac to me one day, “I had no idea when I first made your acquaintance that you were so witty. My husband and all the gentlemen say that you have plus d’esprit than any woman they ever conversed with.”
“When I first knew you, Annette, I was not happy, now I am happy, almost too happy, and that is the reason I am so gay.”
“And I don’t think you hate the men so much as you did,” continued she.
“I am in a humour to hate nobody,” replied I.
“That is true; and, Mademoiselle Valerie, you will marry one of these days; mind,” continued she, putting up her finger, “I tell you so.”
“And I tell you, no,” replied I. “I think there is only one excuse for a woman marrying, which is, when she requires some one to support her; that is not my case, for I thank Heaven I can support myself.”
“Nous verrons” replied Madame Gironac.
Caroline did, however, find the restraint of a school rather irksome, and wished very much to go out with me. When the holidays arrived, and the other young ladies had gone home, I spoke to Mrs Bradshaw, and as she was very partial to me, and knew my former relations with Caroline, she gave her consent. Shortly afterwards, Mrs Bradshaw accepted an invitation to pass three weeks with some friends, and I then proposed that Caroline should pass the remainder of the holidays with me, to which Mrs Bradshaw also consented, much to Caroline’s delight. Madame Gironac had made up a bed for her in my room, and we were a very merry party.
A few days after Caroline came to the house, Lionel made his appearance. I should hardly have believed it possible that he could have so improved in appearance in so short a time. He brought me a very kind letter from Madame d’Albret, in which she begged, as a proof of my having forgiven her, that I would not refuse a few presents she had sent by Lionel. They were very beautiful and expensive, and, when I had had some conversation with Lionel, I made up my mind that I would not return them, which certainly I at first felt more inclined to do than to keep them. When Lionel took leave, promising to come to dinner, Caroline asked me who that gentlemanly young man was. I replied, “that it was a Mr Lionel Dempster, the nephew of Lady R—,” but further conversation was interrupted by the arrival of young Mr Selwyn, who came with a message from his father inviting me to Kew. I declined the invitation, on the plea of Caroline being with me. Mr Selwyn remained some time conversing with me, and at last inquired if I should like to go to the next meeting at the Horticultural Gardens, at the same time offering me two tickets. As I was anxious to see the gardens, I accepted them. He told me that his father would call for us, and his mother and sisters were to be there, and then he took leave.
“Who is Mr Selwyn?” inquired Caroline.