“No; keep them. It is a greater pleasure to me to see you happy.”
“Oh, as to that, I am perfectly happy. I do like so much to drive four-in-hand with plenty of space before me. At Paris, even in the morning, I did not dare to any longer. They looked at me so, it annoyed me. But here—no one! no one! no one!”
At the moment when Bettina, already a little intoxicated with the bracing air and liberty, gave forth triumphantly these three exclamations, “No one! no one! no one!” a rider appeared, walking his horse in the direction of the carriage. It was Paul de Lavardens. He had been watching for more than an hour for the pleasure of seeing the Americans pass.
“You are mistaken,” said Susie to Bettina; “there is some one.”
“A peasant; they don’t count; they won’t ask me to marry them.”
“It is not a peasant at all. Look!”
Paul de Lavardens, while passing the carriage, made the two sisters a highly correct bow, from which one at once scented the Parisian.
The ponies were going at such a rate that the meeting was over like a flash of lightning.
Bettina cried:
“Who is that gentleman who has just bowed to us?”