He did not tell her that he had watched her shopping with Madame Le Pontois, or that he had spent several days at a small auberge at the tiny village of Marcheville-en-Woevre, only two miles distant.
"I had no idea of that," she replied, her face flushing slightly.
"When do you return to London?" he asked.
"I hardly know. Certainly not before next Thursday, as we have amateur theatricals at General Molon's. I am playing the part of Miss Smith, the English governess, in Darbour's comedy, Le Pyrée."
"And then you return to London, eh?"
"I hardly know. Yesterday I had a letter from Mrs. Caldwell saying that she contemplated going to Italy this winter; therefore, perhaps mother will let me go. I wrote to her this morning. The proposal is to spend part of the time in Italy, and then cross from Naples to Egypt. I love Egypt. We were there some winters ago, at the Winter Palace at Luxor."
"Your father and mother will remain at home, I suppose?"
"Mother hates travelling nowadays. She says she had quite sufficient of living abroad in my father's lifetime. We were practically exiled for years, you know. I was born in Lima, and I never saw England till I was eleven. The Diplomatic Service takes one so out of touch with home."
"But Sir Hugh will go abroad this winter, eh?"
"I have not heard him speak of it. I believe he's too busy at the War Office just now. They have some more 'reforms' in progress, I hear," and she smiled.
