"Laudable, certainly! And you always succeed, I suppose?"
"Yes, usually!—why not?" And she laughed again. "Don't, Paul! I don't want to quarrel with you!"
"We won't quarrel, Opal," he said. But the thought of the priest annoyed him.
He seated himself beside her. "Have you no welcome for me?" he said.
She looked up at him, her eyes sweetly tender.
"Of course, Paul! I'm very glad to see you again—if you are a bad boy!"
He looked at her in amazement. "I, bad?—No," he said. And they laughed again. But it was not the care-free laughter they had known at sea. There was a strained note in the tones of the girl that grated strangely upon the Boy's sensitive ear. What had happened? he wondered. What was the new barrier between them? Was it the priest? Again the thought of the priest worried him.
"Where is my friend, the Count de Roannes?" he ventured at last.
"He sailed for Paris last week."
Paul's heart leaped. Surely then their legal betrothal had not taken place.