“Would you like to talk about the past, then?” said the old lady playfully.
“Wish there was no past neither,” grumbled Harry.
“Then we will talk about the present, my dear, and about—let me whisper to you—love!”
She placed her thin lips close to her nephew’s ear, and then held him at arm’s length and smiled upon him proudly.
“Love! Too expensive a luxury for me, auntie. I say, you are ruffling my hair so.”
“Too expensive, Henri? No, my darling boy; follow my advice, and the richest and fairest of the daughters of France shall sue for your hand, and be proud to take your noble name.”
“I say, auntie,” he said laughingly, “aren’t you laying on the colour rather thick?”
“Not a bit, my darling; and that’s why I want to talk to you about your sister’s friend.”
“What, Maddy?” he said eagerly; “then you approve of it.”
“Approve! Bah! you are jesting, my dear. I approve of your making an alliance with a fat Dutch fraülein!”