"Then I will get a large roll of this."
"No, no—that is my affair; but you must wear something else."
"I? What, pray?"
"Pink: it is the color of youth, and joy, and love—worn by the Graces and the Naiads, Oreads and Dryads;—the color of the sea-shell, and the autumn leaves and flowers—something like it at least," Jacques added, finding himself mounting into the realms of imagination.
Belle-bouche blushed slightly, and turned away. Her eyes fell upon Mowbray, who bowed.
"Oh, sir, I am very glad to see you," said the cheerful young girl, holding out her hand; "you must come to our party at Shadynook."
"Madam, I am afraid—" commenced Mowbray, with a bow.
But Belle-bouche interrupted him:
"No! I really will take no refusal! It will be on Thursday, and Aunt Wimple wishes you to come. I am manageress, and I have masculine assistance to compel all invited to be with us."
With which words she glanced at Jacques, who saluted Mowbray with a sad smile.