"I was just on my way to—our bench beyond the fountain," said she, and Ste. Marie nodded, looking upon her sombrely. It seemed to him that he looked with new eyes, and after a little time when he did not speak but only gazed in that strange manner the girl said—
"What is it? Something has happened. Please tell me what it is!" Something like the pale foreshadow of fear came over her beautiful face, and shrouded her golden voice as if it had been a veil.
"Your father," said Ste. Marie heavily, "has just been telling me—that you are to marry young Arthur Benham. He has been telling me."
She drew a quick breath, looking at him, but, after a moment, she said—
"Yes, it is true. You knew it before, though. Didn't you? Do you mean that you didn't know it before? I don't quite understand. You must have known that.
"What in Heaven's name did you think?" she cried, as if with a sort of anger at his dulness.
The man rubbed one hand wearily across his eyes.
"I—don't quite know," said he. "Yes, I suppose I had thought of it. I don't know. It came to me with such a—shock! Yes. Oh, I don't know. I expect I didn't think at all. I—just didn't think." Abruptly his eyes sharpened upon her and he moved a step forward.
"Tell me the truth!" he said. "Do you love this boy?"
The girl's cheeks burned with a swift crimson and she set her lips together. She was on the verge of extreme anger just then, but after a little the flush died down again and the dark fire went out of her eyes. She made an odd little gesture with her two hands. It seemed to express fatigue as much as anything—a great weariness.