‘I have arranged to leave here by the night train,’ he says; ‘but if I can be of the very slightest assistance to you, pray do not hesitate to say so. If you wish it, I will remain at hand!’
Again Madeline’s cheeks burn with a humiliating sense of shame. Perhaps that is the reason she carries her head so haughtily and infuses such a harshness into the tone of her voice.
‘There is no need for you to stay; you cannot be of any use to me; but I thank you for the offer, sir. Goodnight.’
And with a bow she brings the interview to a decided close, and walks to the other end of the room. For a moment or two the Englishman lingers. Although he stands at a distance, and with his face turned another way, Madeline can feel that he is watching her. At last, with a cold ‘Good-night, Madame,’ he leaves the room.
She has turned to answer his ‘Good-night,’ and now her eyes are fixed upon the door. The flush upon her cheek burns more brightly than ever, and her hands have begun to tremble again; she bites her quivering lip and walks impetuously up and down the room.
‘I treated him shockingly,’ she says to herself, ‘but what else could I do? Humiliate myself before him—confess that I had run away from school, and that now, like a naughty child, I wanted to be punished and then forgiven? If he had been an old man I might have done so. If he had been the least homely and comfortable-looking I might have done so—but he was so handsome and so proud-looking—and so young.’
Presently she adds:—
41 wonder what M’sieur Belleisle is doing? Perhaps I had better ring for the waiter, and make arrangements for leaving by the morning train.5
She crosses the room, lays her hand upon the bell, is about to ring, when Monsieur Belleisle, who has noiselessly entered the room, quietly takes her hand.
At the first touch of his cold fingers Madeline’s face again flushes crimson, and she draws her hand away.