"You will be lonely. I regret it."
As silence followed, I turned again to the door, and my hopes sank
with each step in that direction.
"Monsieur!"
Her voice arrested me upon the very threshold.
"What shall a poor girl do with this great estate upon her hands?
It will go to ruin without a man to govern it."
"You must not attempt the task. You must employ an intendant."
I caught something that sounded oddly like a sob. Could it be?
Dieu! could it be, after all? Yet I would not presume. I half
turned again, but her voice detained me. It came petulantly now.
"Monsieur de Bardelys, you have kept your promise nobly. Will you
ask no payment?"
"No, mademoiselle," I answered very softly; "I can take no payment."
Her eyes were lifted for a second. Their blue depths seemed dim.
Then they fell again.
"Oh, why will you not help me?" she burst out, to add more softly:
"I shall never be happy without you!"
"You mean?" I gasped, retracing a step, and flinging my hat in a
corner.
"That I love you, Marcel - that I want you!"
"And you can forgive - you can forgive?" I cried, as I caught her.
Her answer was a laugh that bespoke her scorn of everything - of
everything save us two, of everything save our love. That and the
pout of her red lips was her answer. And if the temptation of
those lips - But there! I grow indiscreet.
Still holding her, I raised my voice.
"Ganymede!" I called.
"Monseigneur?" came his answer through the open window.
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