‘A cathedral!’ he echoed, in surprise. ‘I would if I had the faith of those who used to do so.’
‘It is what I would do if I had money,’ said she, still very gravely. ‘I would build one in the heart of a forest, with the deer and the birds all round it; not jammed up amongst streets and crowds like Nôtre Dame or Chartres.’
Then a sudden sense came over her that she was violating all the rules of propriety by which her life was ordered in thus speaking out her thoughts to one who was almost a stranger; in tarrying at all by the side of a man who was of no parentage to her. She rose, a little hurriedly, but with the stately grace which was natural to her; the grace of old Versailles and Marly.
‘I think I must go back to the house,’ she said, with a little shyness. ‘My cousin does not like me to be alone, or to talk to anyone——’
‘The Duchesse will not object to me,’ said Othmar, with the same smile as he had had when using the same words a few days before. ‘Besides, Mademoiselle, you are in another world than your convent. At Millo men are not thought dragons and tigers. We are poor creatures, indeed, but harmless; more injured than injuring. Do not be so alarmed. I want you to tell me a great deal more about our vicar. Where am I to get his measure for his gown? Will he be surprised with it? Will you not let me send it to you that you may take it to him? I should be ashamed to do so. I have never been inside his church, even to hear you sing.’
‘No, you never came yesterday!’ she said, with a sigh, innocently revealing that she had remarked his absence with regret.
‘To my shame and loss, I did not. I had my uncle with me all the day, and at night a dinner, a concert, and the sauterie, to which I hoped you would have been brought.’
‘But I cannot dance,’ said the child, blushing very much as she made the humiliating confession.
‘So much the better,’ said Othmar, inconsistently, ‘I am sure, however, that you would dance with admirable grace if you danced at all. Anyone who moves well can dance well.’
This time the colour in her cheeks was that of pleasure at his praise. She was silent, looking at him a little wistfully, recalling what De Vannes had said of the Princess Napraxine.