“Must you go so soon, dear!” said Louise consciously, for a terrible thought crossed her mind, and sent the blood surging to her cheeks—Madelaine was scheming to leave her and the visitor alone.
“Yes; they will be expecting me back,” said Madelaine smiling, as she grasped her friend’s thoughts; and then to herself, “Oh, you stupid fellow!”
For Leslie rose at once.
“And I must be going too. Let’s see, I am walking your way, Miss Van Heldre. May I see you home?”
“I—”
“Yes, do, Mr Leslie,” said Louise quietly.
“Ah! I will,” he said hastily. “I want a chat with your father, too.”
Madelaine would have avoided the escort, but she could only have done this at the expense of making a fuss; so merely said “Very well;” and went off with Louise to put on her hat and mantle, leaving Leslie alone with his host, who was seated by the window with a watchmaker’s glass in his eye, making use of the remaining light for the study of some wonderful marine form.
“She would give anything to see her brother settled down,” said Leslie to himself, over and over again. “Well why not?”
Five minutes later he and Madelaine were going along the main street, with Louise watching them from behind her father’s chair, and wondering why she did not feel so happy as she did half an hour before; and Aunt Marguerite gazing from her open window.