The young Vicomte d'Aurès had taken his leave with all the unspoiled, unembarrassed, and boyish cordiality characteristic of his race; also he departed in a state of mind so perfectly transparent to anybody who cared to notice it that Madame de Moidrey retired to the billiard room after his departure, looking very serious. She became more serious still when Peggy did not appear from the southern terrace, whither she had returned to mention something to Monsieur D'Aurès which she had apparently forgotten to say to him in the prolonged ceremony of leavetaking.
When fifteen minutes elapsed and no Peggy appeared, Madame de Moidrey rose from her chair, flushed and unsmiling. But before she had taken a dozen steps toward the southern terrace her younger sister reappeared, walking rapidly. When she caught sight of the Countess advancing, she halted and gazed at her sister rather blankly.
"Well, Peggy?"
"Well?"
"I am not criticising you or that boy, but perhaps a little more reticence—repose of manner—reserve——"
"Ethra," she said in an awed voice, "I am in love with D'Aurès."
"What!"
"I am. It came."
"Good heavens, Peggy——"
"I know! I said 'good heavens,' too—I mean I thought it. I don't know what I've been saying this evening——"