“You are right, fair Scholastics,” I said, “I do love Armelline, but she does not love me, and refuses to make me happy on one pretence or another.”
With these words I left the room, and after shutting the door behind me proceeded to make up a fire in the second apartment.
In a quarter of an hour Armelline knocked at the door, and begged me to open it. She was in her breeches, and said they needed my assistance as their shoes were so small they could not get them on.
I was in rather a sulky humour, so she threw her arms round my neck and covered my face with kisses which soon restored me to myself.
While I was explaining the reason of my ill temper, and kissing whatever I could see, Scholastica burst out laughing.
“I was sure that I was in the way,” said she; “and if you do not trust me, I warn you that I will not go with you to the opera to-morrow.”
“Well, then, embrace him,” said Armelline.
“With all my heart.”
I did not much care for Armelline’s generosity, but I embraced Scholastica as warmly as she deserved. Indeed I would have done so if she had been less pretty, for such kindly consideration deserved a reward. I even kissed her more ardently than I need have done, with the idea of punishing Armelline, but I made a mistake. She was delighted, and kissed her friend affectionately as if in gratitude.
I made them sit down, and tried to pull on their shoes, but I soon found that they were much too small, and that we must get some more.