[Sidenote: _Elizabeth Sandwiched_]
Afterwards, in the salon, the Vicomte managed to stand behind me while
I was talking to the old Baron, and he said in a low voice: Why had I
come back? He was at peace waiting till his day came, and here I had
upset everything, and he should have to go through endless more
restless nights! I said that I was sorry the storm had prevented my
starting, especially as I was unwelcome. So he threw prudence to the
winds, and said out loud before the Baron that I knew it was not that,
and he looked so devoted and distressed that the dear old Baron patted
him on the back, and turning away said, "Mon brave Gaston, moi aussi
j'etais jeune une fois." And he left us alone by the window, while he
stood a sort of sentry in front.
The Vicomte did whisper a lot of things; he said just for one evening I
might make him happy and pretend I loved him, and let him call me
"_cherie_." So I said "all right;" I did not think it _could_ matter,
as I am coming home to-morrow, Mamma, and shall probably never see him
again, and you said one ought always to be kind-hearted and do little
things for people.
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