'I trust not; yet I dare not express all I feel.'
'Am I then so terrible, or have you lost your tongue or your wits?' she asked with a waggish smile in her beautiful and half-closed eyes, as she leant back in the soft fautueil.
'If Madame la Comtesse would——'
'Would what? speak out, boy; what are you thinking of?'
'Would pardon me, and excuse this confusion; for my soul is full of nothing but perplexity and admiration.'
Thus did the magic of this woman's beauty sway me against my reason, while I despised her position in my heart—a heart, moreover, that was not ungrateful.
She burst into a fit of merry laughter.
'Ma foi! my dear young friend, my Scottish provincial, you will make your fortune if you only continue as you have begun. A year in the Scottish guard will make you a more accomplished chevalier than the Marquis de Gordon himself! Really, without knowing it, you already act like a finished courtier.'
'I will study to improve this acting, and if madame will only permit to kiss her hand——'
'Tush, you silly boy, we are quite alone; your heart is full of gratitude, and you would only kiss my hand. What a timid little child it is!'