George Brand sat with his hands clinched. Every moment he thought he should hear Natalie knock at the door below.
"Madame," he said, with some little hesitation, "something has happened of serious importance—I mean, of a little importance. When Natalie comes I must tell her—"
"And you wish to see her alone, perhaps?" said the mother, lightly. "Why not? And listen—it is she herself, I believe!"
A minute afterward the door was opened, and Natalie entered, radiant, happy, with glad eyes. Then she started when she saw George Brand there, but there was no fear in her look. On the contrary, she embraced her mother; then she went to him, and said, with a pleased flush in her face,
"I had no message this morning. You did not care, then, for our little bunch of flowers?"
He took her hand, and held it for a second.
"I thought I should see you to-day, Natalie; I have something to tell you."
Her face grew graver.
"Is it something serious?"