“Mademoiselle’s game is up. You see, Sabrina, I was right, and he’s loyal to his love—true to the guage of the egret’s plume.”
“Indeed, yes! What a tale for Vaga! And I shall tell it her soon.”
“’Twill gladden her, you think?”
“I’m quite sure of it. Though I haven’t evidence of her heart’s inclinings in speech plain as that we’ve just—Hish! Another couple coming this way! Really, Richard, we ought not to stay here; ’tis bad as being eaves-droppers.”
“Never mind about the eavesdropping. It will sit light on my conscience, after leading to such good results. Who may be the pair approaching now, I wonder?”
They listened. To hear music, with the hum of many voices afar off; but two near, and drawing nearer.
“My sister!” said Sabrina, almost instantly recognising one of them; then, after another brief interval of silence, adding, “and Reginald Trevor!”
Continuing to advance, the two were soon up to the pavilion; and made stop, on the same spot where but five minutes before stood their respective cousins.
Now, however, it was the gentleman who spoke first—after their coming to a stand—and as if changing the subject of the dialogue already in progress.
“My cousin Eust seems beside himself with Mademoiselle Lalande. I never saw man so madly in love with a woman. I wonder if she reciprocates it?”