‘Ah, Mora dear, you can’t deceive me. Since I began to love Archie, I see many things that I never used to think of before. One thing I see, and see plainly, that Colonel Woodruffe is very much in love with my sister.’
‘Clarice!’
‘Oh, I know quite well what I am talking about. I say again that he loves you. And, O Mora, he is so good, so kind, such a preux chevalier in every way, that if you could only find in your heart to love him a little in return, it would make me very, very happy!’
‘Why should it make you happy, dear?’
Clarice, who was still holding one of her sister’s hands, pressed it fondly to her cheek, and for a moment or two she did not speak.
‘Because—because you know, darling, that when Archie and I are married, I may be compelled to leave you,’ she said at last with a little break in her voice. ‘And think how lonely you will be then! But if you and Colonel Woodruffe were married, I’——
Madame De Vigne did not let her finish, but turning up the fair young face, bent down her own and kissed it.
‘Hush! you foolish child; you must not talk in that way,’ she said. ‘I had to live a lonely life for years while you were away at school, and should it ever become needful, I daresay I could do the same again.’
‘It will nearly break my heart if I am compelled to leave you.’
‘You must not say that, dear.’