“Well?”
“What a nice little husband he would make—quite a lady’s page!”
“‘My pretty page, look out afar,
Look out, look out afar,’”
she sang; but Marie seemed hardly to notice her, for she was very quiet and thoughtful, as she gave a touch or two to her hair.
“There, that will do; come along—you won’t be noticed.”
Marie glanced at her sharply, and the blood suffused her cheeks; but she said nothing, only beckoned to Ruth to come, and they had nearly reached the drawing-room door when they met Markes, who took Ruth into custody.
“Not you, my dear,” she said quietly—“you’re to stop; it’s them that’s to go.”
As she laid her hand upon the door Clotilde’s heart beat fast, while a look of delight flushed her countenance. At the same time, though, she wondered that Marcus Glen and his friend should have called so soon.
“The silly old things!” she thought; “they could not see that the bouquets came from the Captain and Mr Millet.”
Then she glanced round to see that her sister was close beside her, opened the door, and entered.