"Céleste, you are just a darling. If you will promise me faithfully not to let a living soul know, I will tell you my secret."
"Of course I won't, you know I always tell the truth. I never tell lies—except sometimes to mamma," she added after a pause.
"Well then, Céleste dear, Henri—I mean, Professor Delapine—has asked me to be his wife, you cannot think how happy I am," and while she spoke, a look of joy came over her face.
"Oh, Renée, I am so glad," cried Céleste, clapping her hands and throwing her arms around her sister's neck, while half sobbing and half laughing she breathlessly whispered, "I have often wondered if that would happen, I know that you two are exactly suited to each other, and Renée—he is such a clever darling. Oh, I am so delighted to hear it."
"Don't I know that he is as you say 'such a darling,'" said Renée smiling. "I have loved him from the very first moment that I met him, without being aware of it, if you can understand my meaning."
"Oh, Renée, you are so good, you deserve to be rewarded with every happiness."
"Thank you so much, Céleste, and look here, dear, when we are married you must come and stay weeks and weeks with us, won't you?"
"That would be just too lovely altogether. But you have not told me why you locked the door, and why you were sobbing and crying. Was it for joy?"
"No, dear, not for joy, but for grief," answered Renée.
"For grief! Whatever do you mean?" and as she spoke, Céleste's eyes fairly stood out with astonishment. "You are talking in riddles. What do you mean? surely you are not sorry that you accepted him?"