“I cannot believe they would be,” she said. “He who turned the rabble loose would be in the greatest danger himself. Besides, the government has conceded so much to these soldiers; too much, my father says.”
“That is precisely the point, mademoiselle,” I replied; “it has conceded so much that it can no longer command; it is entreating them.”
Her expression changed and grew grave. Then, after a moment, she smiled and seemed to cast the whole matter to the four winds.
“Where is my bracelet, sir?” she asked suddenly. “Have you mended it?”
“Not yet, mademoiselle,” I replied, as glibly as I could, “but it shall be mended in a manner worthy of the arm that is to wear it.”
“You have never mended bracelets!” she said, looking at me from under her long lashes.
“If I mended one for anyone, it would be for the Princess Daria,” I replied, with gallantry.
She blushed. “You are long about it,” she retorted, pouting. “I want my bracelet!”
“’Tis hard to part with it, Princess,” I said daringly.
She bridled, and I know not what she would have replied, for, at the moment, Lissa came running up, breathless, with the miniature, which she thrust into my hands.