"There, Lucien, I have had strawberries for you."
But Lucien was so absorbed in his letter that he did not hear a word. Eve came to sit beside him without a murmur; for in a sister's love for a brother it is an element of great pleasure to be treated without ceremony.
"Oh! what is it?" she cried as she saw tears shining in her brother's eyes.
"Nothing, nothing, Eve," he said, and putting his arm about her waist, he drew her towards him and kissed her forehead, her hair, her throat, with warmth that surprised her.
"You are keeping something from me."
"Well, then—she loves me."
"I knew very well that you kissed me for somebody else," the poor sister pouted, flushing red.
"We shall all be happy," cried Lucien, swallowing great spoonfuls of soup.
"We?" echoed Eve. The same presentiment that had crossed David's mind prompted her to add, "You will not care so much about us now."
"How can you think that, if you know me?"