"It is not good-bye," said he. "I shall see you soon again--and I hope, often--often, Coira."
The words had a flat and foolish sound, but he could find no others. It was not easy to speak.
"I suppose I must not ask to see your father?" said he.
And she told him that her father had locked himself in his own room and would see no one--would not even open his door to take in food.
Ste. Marie went to the stairs leaning upon the shoulder of the stout old Justine, but before he had gone Coira checked him for an instant. She said:
"Tell Arthur, if he speaks to you about me, that what I said in the note I gave him last night I meant quite seriously. I gave him a note to read after he reached home. Tell him for me that it was final. Will you do that?"
"Yes, of course," said Ste. Marie.
He looked at her with some wonder, because her words had been very emphatic.
"Yes," he said, "I will tell him. Is that all?"
"All but good-bye," said she. "Good-bye, Bayard!"