“Oh, you have come at last!” she cried in English. “It has seemed so long!”
“The fair Gretchen has found a cavalier!” laughed one of the tormentors.
“May they be happy!” cried another, and in the shower of confetti which followed, Usk made his escape, the girl still clinging to his arm. She was shaking from head to foot, and he managed to drag her into a doorway, while he stood before her to protect her from the crowd. Presently a small meek voice said—
“Please forgive me. I ought not to have pretended I knew you, but I was so frightened.” The tears were raining down.
“Oh, never mind,” said Usk cheerfully, wondering how this child had been allowed out by herself. “They wouldn’t have hurt you really, you know. Shall we wait here and watch for your people?”
“I don’t know where they are, and papa will be so angry.”
“Why? Did you come out without his knowing?”
“Oh no. I was with him, and I wanted to hold his arm, and he wouldn’t let me. He said I made him look absurd,” a sob. “But I knew we could not keep together if I let go, and we were separated in a moment.”
“All right. Don’t cry. I’ll take you home at once if you like. Your father will guess you’ve gone back. Where are you staying?”
“At the Hôtel des Rois. But please don’t allow me to trouble you.”