She looked at me with her head on one side, as mischievous a little vixen as ever lived.
“I will tell you next week,” she said wickedly.
I caught her round young arm and held her, in spite of her struggles.
“When, child, when?” I demanded savagely; “do not trifle!”
“To-morrow,” she drawled mischievously, “I will tell you.”
I gave her a little shake. “When?” I said, “and where? ’Tis no jest, mademoiselle, but life and death!”
She looked up at me with wondering blue eyes.
“Do you really love her so?” she whispered.
“Better than life,” I answered solemnly.
She sighed deeply and smiled. “I think she——” The minx broke off, looking at me sideways.