"And you must bring your sister Lucy, Mr. Mowbray. I am sorry we know each other so slightly; but I am sure we shall be intimate if she comes. Do not refuse to bring her now."
Belle-bouche enforced her requests with such a wealth of smiles, that Mowbray was compelled to yield.
He promised to come, and then suddenly remembered that Philippa would be there, and almost groaned.
Belle-bouche finished her purchases, and went out.
As she passed Hoffland she dropped her handkerchief. That young gentleman, however, declined to pick it up and restore it, though the absent Jacques did not perceive it. Jacques assisted the young girl into her carriage, pressed her hand with melancholy affection, and went away sighing.
Mowbray, having procured what Lucy wished, came forth again and was joined by Hoffland. That gentleman held a magnificent lace handkerchief in his hand.
"See," he said, "what that languishing little beauty dropped in passing to her carriage. What a love of a handkerchief!"
"What an odd vocabulary you have collected," said Mowbray, smiling. "Well, you should have restored it to her, Charles."
"Restored it!"
"Yes."