"All right, ma belle," returned her father; "but we must be going now, it's six o'clock, and I asked Vincent to dine, we have a little business to talk over."
Elsie was silent, but a distressed look crept over her speaking face. "If you want to talk of business may I not go to dine with Antoinette?"
"Aha! you perverse little puss, you are real unkind to poor Vincent, who is a good fellow enough; why, every one likes him but you."
"And I do not like him, nor do I like to sing to him."
"See that now! and he an old friend of your father's before—no, not quite before you were born. Well, please yourself, dear, please—Why," interrupting himself, "there's old Monsieur Chauvot; I must speak to him."
He went forward, and was soon in deep conversation with a stout Frenchman, through whose arm he passed his own, and they walked on together, Elsie and Glynn following.
"So Vincent is one of your father's friends who do not find favor in your eyes. What has he done?" asked Glynn.
"Nothing; I cannot account for my dislike, but it is here," pressing her hand on her heart, "and will not go away."
"And I with as little reason share it," returned Glynn.
"Do you? I am glad, which is very wrong, but it comforts me to find some one else unreasonable. Madame Davilliers and Antoinette think him quite nice and agreeable."