"Are you going?" exclaimed M. de Castella, as St. John held out his hand.
"Yes. I feel every moment wasted that does not speed me on my journey."
And in another instant he was gone. Without a word more of adieu to Adeline than he gave to the rest. There was no opportunity for it.
"I don't know that I would have angered him, had I foreseen this," cried Rose, candidly, as she lingered on the terrace with Adeline.
"Did you anger him?"
"I think I did. A little bit. He should not have dared me to it."
Adeline looked over the balustrades as she listened, seeing nothing. A painful question was upon her lips; but her poor sensitive heart--how unfit it was for the wear and tear of life!--beat so violently that she had to wait before she put it.
"What you said was not true, Rose?"
"What did I say?" rejoined Rose, whose thoughts had veered to fifty other things in her light carelessness.
"That he loved--what was the name?--Sarah Beauclerc."