She turned toward him. "I thought there was much to say. There is—nothing."
"Nothing for you; for me, something. It is to wish you all happiness, to assure you of my constant—friendship."
"And that is needless. We shall always be friends, warm friends, Mark. Let it be so. And—there is something more. I should not have written as I did of Paula; I had no right. But—since I am your friend, and you are mine——"
"We shall be. Even so, give me a little time."
His words were accompanied by a sardonic smile. The words and the smile silenced her. There was a pause.
"Has the Marquise forgiven me?" she asked at length.
"She will in time. By the way, I saw Adolphe. I hope he did not persecute——"
"No, no. He left that to his mama," she answered, laughing. "To Adolphe, as a cousin, I had no objection; but——"
"You have chosen more wisely," he said gravely. "I wish you happiness, Natalie." He held out his hand; she took it, her own trembling. "God bless you, Cousin." His lips brushed her cold cheek, then he was gone.
She watched him from the window; her face was very white, her hands tightly clenched. So she stood until he had passed from view, then she went upstairs. In the hall she passed Tabitha, who exclaimed: "You scared us all—yourself, too. You look like a ghost."