“Hang it all! what am I to say to him?”
“Just tell him to go. And to remove his cousin—for the second time.”
“It’s deuced awkward,” growled Stuart.
“Not from one man to another. He’ll understand.”
Then Stuart exploded his wrath: “Comes of comic advertisement! The fellow naturally thought ... Bohemian lines! you see where they lead to!”
Aureole walked away, with her head in the air.
Vyvyan received his congé with protestations of astonishment and regret at having unwittingly offended Mrs. Strachey. His manner at lunch the next day, was tinged with gentle reproach. Aureole wore an apron, and her rebellious hair was gathered into a bun, by way of signifying that her Bohemianism had limits. An air of strain hung over the meal. By the evening, Vyvyan the debonair, Vyvyan, the fairy prince so eagerly awaited, Vyvyan had gone. So had his cousin—twice removed.
CHAPTER IV
IL TROVATORE
Aureole was beset by a fear that her ejection of Vyvyan had somewhat impaired her claims to Bohemianism, as set forth by the advertisement. Wherefore it was one evening that she suddenly bethought herself to invite the ‘Troubadours’ to the Farme.