"He is a holy man," said Margot.
"Ah, oui, oui, mon enfant—I know all that, but, nevertheless, I am tout à fait Français and I love the French the best of all people in the world."
"And I love the English and the Irish," said Margot.
"Ah well, wait a while, ma pauvre chérie. Thou wilt soon see for thyself. When the marriage time comes on—then will happen the rejoicing, and I can dress thee, ah well! I have thy little garments already arranged, but the avocat is waiting. The dot must be settled once and for all on this brilliant petite Comtesse, and then M'sieur, you will tell those good people in Ireland and your own sacred household what good has befallen la petite."
"I like it not at all," said Margot to herself. She stood looking disconsolately out of one of the windows and remembered The Desmond and the old place gone to rack and ruin, and hated the idea of being left alone with grand'mère and grandpère of the French nation.
"It troubles me," she thought, "why did I ever leave my little home with my beloved Jacko?"