She turned toward me, a slight frown darkening her face.
"I wish you would not call me Mademoiselle," she said slowly. "It is as if we were still mere strangers; and you said Elsa Matherson was to be as your sister."
I bent over her suddenly, all my repressed love glowing in my face.
"Toinette!" I whispered passionately, "I would call you by a dearer name than that,—by the dearest of all dear names if I might, for you have won my heart in the wilderness."
For a single instant she glanced shyly up into my face, her own crimson at my sudden ardor. Her eyes drooped and hid themselves behind their long lashes.
"Those who sent you forth seeking a sister might not thus wish to welcome Elsa Matherson," she said softly.
"'Tis a venture I most gladly make," I insisted, "and would seal it with a kiss."
Her eyes flashed up at me, full of sudden merriment.
"The unpaid wager leaves me helpless to resist, Monsieur."
* * * * * *