"Any fool can see it," he had said; "cheer up, man; Vera is a ripe fruit, ready to fall into your mouth when you open it to ask her."
"I have asked her several times," said Paul; "you know that. She used to say she is engaged to some Russian."
"Oh, that old fable!" Henri laughed. "Well, has she dropped it lately?"
"She has not mentioned it, certainly, of late, but——"
"Very well then. It was a very good excuse while she wanted one. My argument is that she requires an excuse no longer. Ask her again before the Ambassadors leave Paris."
Paul accepted this advice. He generally resented advice, and hated to be preached at and interfered with, but he was always ready to take more from his friend than from any one else.
"I have come to say farewell, Mademoiselle," he said, calling at the half-dismantled embassy. "It is time you allowed me to know how I stand with you. That I love you with all my heart you are well aware."
"Monsieur—alas! It is not the moment to discuss such things. Let us try to part in friendship. If matters had been otherwise, I know not but that in time I might possibly have answered differently; as it is——" Vera paused.
"You are referring, doubtless, to your contract of affiance. Mademoiselle Vera, let me assure you that such a contract——"
"Bah! This is not a moment for deceptions, Monsieur; be sure that contract or no contract, I shall marry no one against my will."