“Your obedient servant,
“LOUIS GILBERT (Colonel).”
The school bell rang as Denise finished reading the letter. The class was over.
“We shall descend into the well again to-morrow,” she said, closing her books.
The girls trooped out into the forlorn courtyard, leaving Mademoiselle Brun and Denise alone in the schoolroom. Mademoiselle Brun read the second letter with a silent concentration. She glanced up when she had finished it.
“Of course you will sell,” she said.
Denise was looking out of the tall closed windows at the few yards of sky that were visible above the roofs. Some fleecy clouds were speeding across the clear ether.
“No,” she answered slowly; “I think I shall go to Corsica. Tell me,” she added, after a pause—“I suppose I have Corsican blood in my veins?”
“I suppose so,” admitted Mademoiselle Brun, reluctantly.