“I am not going with you.”
What was it Lisle was saying? His sister grabbed his arm and shook it.
“Don’t tease me. You always go to Les Vignes,” she said, but she felt that he meant what he had said and knew in her heart that he was not teasing.
“I am telling you the truth. You are going at six just as I have said. A rider has gone ahead to-night to prepare the servants at Les Vignes. You are to be quiet and obedient and are not to sulk.” Lisle spoke sternly but he did not frighten his sister at all. She put her arm about his shoulders and laid her face close to his. He did not return her caress, but sat looking straight in front of him. Marie Josephine sat back against her pillows, winking her eyes rapidly to keep the tears back. When she had put her cheek close to her brother’s she had felt something wet. It had been a tear. She must never let him know. He would never forgive her if he found it out.
“When are you coming?” she asked a little timidly.
“I don’t know. I shall not leave maman.”
“You mean because of all the noise and shooting and trouble and keeping the king and queen in prison,” asked Marie Josephine.
Lisle nodded. “Maman will not go. She says it would be disloyal. She is right. If it is disloyal for her, it is disloyal for me. But we will talk no more to-night. Then there is Great-aunt Hortense—we cannot leave her. You are to get up at once when Proté calls you, take your petit déjeuner, and then say good-by to maman. You are to shed no tears. Now lie down and go to sleep. I will tuck you up!”
Marie Josephine lay down, shutting her eyes obediently, though the tears forced themselves from under her lashes.
Lisle leaned over and kissed her.