“Ah! you will not be here so soon?” said Adele, in a tone that pretended to be pensive. “You will like Saint Louis too well to leave it. Perhaps when you have seen Olympe—”
“And what of Olympe?”
“She is beautiful—she is rich—”
“Those are qualities that more concern your brother; and if I should make love to Olympe, it will only be as his proxy.”
“Ha! ha! a perilous prospect for poor Luis!”
“Oh, no! Luis need fear no rival; but, jesting apart, I should be glad to enter into a little covenant with him.”
“A covenant?”
“Yes—the terms of which would be, that in Saint Louis I should use all my interest in his favour, while he should here reciprocate, by employing his in mine.”
“In what quarter, Monsieur?”
“Here, at home.”