"Did she tell you what dowry she could give her daughter?"
"Dowry! are you mad? We talked in Turkish and discussed the matter in the Turkish way. I think I should have surprised her exceedingly if I had given her the idea that I was asking, not only for Kondjé-Gul herself, but for some pecuniary remuneration to the noble Kiusko for taking her. That would have been sufficient to upset all her ideas, for don't you know that in the East it is the husband, on the contrary, who always makes a present to the parents of the girl he wants to have? This arrangement, by the way, seems to me more chivalrous and more manly. Kiusko, for that matter, cares about as much for money as for a straw: he loves her, and that is enough for him."
I took good care not to disturb the illusive hopes which my aunt had already conceived. Being reassured by the manner in which Madame Murrah had played her part, it only remained for me to determine the time and the form of refusal best adapted to the circumstances.
While I was in the midst of these reflections, Count Kiusko came in, like any familiar friend, without being announced. He held out his hand to me with more than his usual cordiality. By his happy looks I judged that he had already had a word of encouragement from my aunt, and that he had come to learn in detail the result of her first attempt. Not wishing to disturb their interview, I pretended after a minute or two that I had some letters to write, and left them.
The following morning I was only just out of bed when Kiusko came up with his spurs on. We had decided the day before to ride together to the Bois. As he usually went to the rendezvous by himself, I guessed that to-day he wanted to appear to have been taken there by me, in order to cover his embarrassment, or perhaps his bashfulness when he met Kondjé-Gul. Having made up my mind to avoid all confidences, I kept my valet in the room with me, dressing myself very deliberately, and without any compassion for Kiusko's impatience. This compelled us, directly we were mounted, to gallop to the Bois, a procedure not very favourable to confidential effusions.
We only joined the party at the Avenue of Acacias on their way back. I took care to watch Kiusko as he saluted Kondjé-Gul. He blushed and stammered out a compliment addressed collectively to all the three girls. Kondjé's countenance betrayed nothing more than the flush produced by her ride. We started off in two separate parties. From motives of discretion, I suppose, Kiusko remained behind with Suzannah and the commodore. Edward and I had gone in front with Kondjé-Gul and Maud, who was quarrelling with her cousin upon the important question, as to whether we should gallop straight ahead or make a round between the trees. Kondjé-Gul decided the matter by suddenly entering the cover.
"Who loves me, let him follow me!" she said, with a laugh.
I followed her, and in a few moments we found ourselves side by side.
"Oh, such a fine piece of news!" she said to me, as soon as Maud and Edward, who were behind us, were out of hearing.
"What is it?" I asked.