"Why, no; on the contrary, I receive no one. Except for two gentlemen who live near,—and them we see only once or twice a week,—we are always alone, Charles and I."
Armantine frowned slightly with vexation, but instantly tried to change the frown into a smile. It was the first time that she had heard Frédérique call me Charles, and that evidence of familiarity did not seem to cause her the keenest pleasure.
"So you have left your place of retirement at Passy?" said Madame Dauberny, after a pause.
"Oh! a long while ago—I was bored to death there. One sees too many people in that region, and I prefer solitude now. I came here to take a house, because I thought it would be quieter, more like the country."
"But, still, if you are bored——"
"It is sometimes unwelcome visitors who bore one. One is happier alone with one's memories."
As she said this, Armantine cast a melancholy glance in my direction. Frédérique noticed it, and she at once rose, saying:
"Come, inspect my house and garden.—Will you come with us, Charles?"
"No, madame; I have some letters to write."
I bowed, and returned to my pavilion. I had an idea that Frédérique was quite willing that I should not attend them; besides, those two old friends might have innumerable things to say to each other after so long a separation, and I did not wish to intrude.