"I'm not an idiot," was Rose's answer. "And I am apt to speak freely when I feel disappointed. I thought you would be sure to marry an Englishman. You have often said so, and you admire the English so much more than you do the French. You remember that handsome Englishman, of French-marigold memory? I set it down in my mind that your destiny and his were to be linked together."
"You have set many things down in your mind, Rose, that never had place out of it," retorted Adeline, with a merry laugh. "I have not seen him since that night, and probably never shall see him again."
"Mademoiselle Rose Darling," exclaimed Clotilde, putting her head out at the schoolroom window.
"Oh the joy!" cried Rose, as she flew away. "I know it's the Singletons."
The Baron de la Chasse arrived from Paris, and was betrothed to Adeline de Castella. A small circle of friends were invited to meet him on the evening of the betrothment, and Adeline did not forget a promise she had made to invite Rose and Mary Carr.
A man of thirty years, of middle height, and compact, well-made figure; pleasing features, regular in their contour; auburn hair, curly and luxuriant by nature, but sheared off to bristles; yellow whiskers, likewise sheared, and a great fierce yellow moustache with curled corners. Somehow Rose, when Adeline said he was good-looking, had pictured to herself a tall, handsome man: she caught sight of the cropped hair and the moustache, and went through the introduction with her handkerchief to her mouth, splitting with laughter. Yet there was no mistaking the baron for anything but a gentleman and a high-bred man.
"Mary!" whispered Rose, when she found the opportunity, "what a sacrifice for Adeline!"
"How do you mean? Domestic happiness does not lie in looks. And if it did, the baron's are not so bad."
"But look at his sheared hair, and those frightful moustaches! Why does he not cut the ends off, and dye them brown?"
"Perhaps he is afraid of their turning green--if he has read 'Ten Thousand a Year.'"