Fanny herself received her distinguished guest with a face even paler than usual; but this pallor rather became her. Squire John was beside himself for rapture. He would not give his fair bride time to approach him, but, putting his hand solemnly upon his breast, addressed her in language very unusual for him—
"My dear young lady, so help me God, the one object of my life will be how to make you happy!"
"And I, sir," said Fanny, in a calm and resolute voice, "shall consider it my highest duty to do honour to your name. And now I would ask you all three, my friends, to grant me a few hours' private interview where we shall not be disturbed."
These words were spoken in such a calm and resolute voice that they felt bound to obey, and all four withdrew into the innermost chamber, locking the door behind them.
A few hours later the door was reopened, and they all four appeared again.
But how every face had changed!
Fanny's face was no longer pale, but as red as the dawn, serene, and open as a half-blown rose.
Master Boltay was twisting his moustache as if he meditated something terrible; but for an
occasional chuckle, one would have said that he was very angry indeed.
Even honest Teresa's eyes sparkled, but the sparks of triumphant revenge were in them after all.