“Judithe, my child, it was an ideal adventure,” insisted the Countess, an hour after the Lieutenant had left her, and 98 she had repaired to the room where the Marquise was supposed to be resting. Her nervousness had evidently not yet abated, for she was walking up and down the floor.
“An absolutely ideal adventure, and a heroic foreigner to the rescue! What a god-send that I invited him! And I really believe he enjoyed it. I never before saw him so gay, so charming! There are men, you know, to whom danger is a tonic, and my friend’s son is like that, surely. Did he not seem at all afraid?”
“Not that I observed.”
“Did he not say anything?”
“Y––yes; he swore at the people who shouted and tried to stop the horses.”
“You should not have let yourself hear that,” said the Countess, reproachfully. “I thought he was so perfect, and was making my little romance about him––or could, if you would only show a little more interest. Ah! at your age I should have been madly in love with the fine fellow, just for what he did today; but you! Still, it would be no use, I suppose. He is fiancee, you know. Yes; the mother told me; a fine settlement; I saw her picture––very pretty.”
“American––I suppose?”
“Oh, yes; their lands join, and she is a great heiress. The name––the name is Loring––Genevieve? No––Gertrude, Mademoiselle Gertrude Loring. Ah! so strong he was, so heroic. If she loves him she should have seen him today.”
“Yes,” agreed the Marquise, with a curious little smile, “she should.”