She lifted her eyes from the ground and fixed them steadily on his face.
“Let me telegraph to my mother that you are coming engaged.” His voice broke down.
“But how will you know?” she asked, laughing.
“Let me know first.” He bent forward. “Oh, my darling, my beauty.” He caught her two hands, and, like the passionate young fool he was, covered them with kisses. “My darling, how happy they will all be at home.”
Even at that moment the naïve selfishness of this last exclamation amused her. She said nothing, however, prolonging the sweetest silence a woman ever knows.
“Gerard,” she said, some minutes later, looking up at him as he bent over her. “You have forgotten that the girl you are engaged to has read Maupassant.”
“Yes,” he answered, “I have forgotten. I shall never remember.”
He went back to his rooms to dress for dinner, highly delighted. He was very much attached to his cousin. And she was the greatest heiress in the province.