“Shall I tell you? I suspected; so I questioned him last night. Had I been in his place, I should have chastised Herr Rosen instead of bidding him be gone. It was he.”
Nora, sat down.
“Positively. The men who guarded you were two actors from one of the theaters. He did not come to Versailles because he was being watched. He was found and sent home the night before your release.”
“I am sorry. But it was so like him.”
The padre spread his hands. “What a way women have of modifying either good or bad impulses! It would have been fine of you to have stopped when you said you were sorry.”
“Padre, one would believe that you had taken up his defense!”
“If I had I should have to leave it after to-day. I return to Rome to-morrow and shall not see you again before you go to America. I have bidden good-by to all save you. My child, my last admonition is, be patient; observe; guard against that impulse born in your blood to move hastily, to form opinions without solid foundations. Be happy while you are young, for old age is happy only in that reflected happiness of recollection. Write to me, here. I return in November. Benedicite?” smiling.
Nora bowed her head and he put a hand upon it.
“And listen to this,” began Harrigan, turning over a page. “‘It is considered bad form to call the butler to your side when you are a guest. Catch his eye. He will understand that something is wanted.’ How’s that?”