"Ah, yes, yes," said Matilda. "You are noble, Comtesse. I love you, I could crawl at your feet."
"But I should not wish it," said Margot. "I hate people that crawl. I want you to become good, and perhaps, God knows, it may be the right thing to do. Stay where you are, Matilda, and I will go and speak to grand'mère."
She came back in a few minutes with a light dancing step.
"Grand'mère est un ange. She will settle with Madame Marcelle and I will choose you a chapeau for nothing at all. I know the kind that will suit you. I can dispose of you in a moment."
"But, but——" exclaimed Matilda. "Am I not to see you again, sweetest Margot?"
"You have got to go back to school this minute. The rain is over and grandpère's automobile is waiting for you. Madame la Comtesse has written to Madame la Princesse and you will not be scolded and you will send back my clothes after they are well washed and ironed. I cannot tell you anything about Ireland for a long day yet. Go now, Matilda, and don't grovel, I beg."
Matilda looked rather startled and slightly frightened.
Margot danced down to her grandpère.
"I have missed thee so, ma petite," he exclaimed.