"Ah, m'sieu'! he rains?" I inquired.
"No, mum."
"Ah! he is going to rain, maybe?"
He made no answer, but turned quickly and went to a near closet, from which he brought a faded umbrella.
"There," said he, as he led me to the front door, "see that you send it back."
On the porch were the secretary and the ladies—three of them.
"Ciel! what is it?" one of them whispered as I came out.
The post-lights were shining in their faces, and lovelier I never saw than those of the demoiselles. They stepped lightly to the coach, and the secretary asked if I would go in with them.
"No, m'sieu'," was my answer; "I sit by ze drivaire."
"Come in here, you silly goose," said one of the ladies in French, recognizing my nationality.