The young lady shrugged her shoulders. "In no way at all. This is a Monday. Have you never noticed that I am always vaporish on Mondays?"
"No, I had not noticed. Oh! as I remember it! Tell me, what did you think yesterday of M. de Mailly? Is't the first time you have seen him?"
"Yes. And I think him a gentleman, and that his English accent is good. He looked rather pale. For the rest—why should I think of him at all, since his eyes are only for Deborah?"
"Deborah!" echoed the man, too quickly. He recovered himself, however. "Ah, well—he has seen her before. You and Lucy were strange to him."
"He has seen her before?" repeated Virginia, surprised.
"Several times. Didn't you know? Carroll told me 'twas her doses—medicines—that probably saved his life."
"Ah! So that is what has made her so eager over Miriam Vawse." Virginia gazed thoughtfully out among the trees towards the river, of which a flashing glimpse was now and then to be caught through the feathery foliage.
"I thought you knew, cousin, or I would not have spoken. There was no wrong in the matter. Only Deborah is peculiar. She—"
"Oh, have no fear! I will not speak of the matter. But—I am not too fond of Deborah Travis; therefore I say nothing of her affairs. It might be better for her if I did."
"I think not," he answered, coolly. "Hark! There is some one coming up the road. Do you hear the beat of the hoofs?"