“For the same reason—because I liked it,” said Marie bitterly; “but I’ve hated myself ever since.”
“It’s a pity they are so old,” said Clotilde. “It would be very nice if they were not, for I like the idea of having plenty of good things, and being able to spend as much money as I like. Why, Rie,” she exclaimed, “let’s have a run through the Maze. We haven’t been since we were quite little children.”
“Nonsense! absurd!”
“Never mind; let’s be absurd for once. There will be no one there so soon as this. I shall go; you can stay away if you like.”
With a quiet, disdainful look, Marie followed her sister, and carelessly began with her threading the devious course through the quaint old labyrinth.
“How ridiculous of you, Clo!” she said at last. “There is not a breath of air, and it is growing terribly hot. Come back, there is someone here.”
“Very well; come back, then,” said Clotilde. “This way, Rie.”
“No; that is not the path.”
“Yes it is. I’m sure it is; and—oh, how strange! Here are those two.”
Marie’s cheeks crimsoned as she found that they had come suddenly upon the two officers. That it was a planned thing she was sure; but this was not the time to resent it, and she returned the salutations with which she was greeted, making up her mind that she would keep close to Clotilde the whole time, and prevent a tête-à-tête.