The face that met his was so changed with excitement and distress that
for an instant he did not recognize it.
"Why, Madame Delphine"--
"Oh, Pere Jerome! I wan' see you so bad, so bad! _Mo oule dit
quic'ose_,--I godd some' to tell you."
The two languages might be more successful than one, she seemed to
think.
"We had better go back to my parlor," said the priest, in their native
tongue.
They returned
Madame Delphine's very step was altered,--nervous and inelastic. She
swung one arm as she walked, and brandished a turkey-tail fan.
"I was glad, yass, to kedge you," she said, as they mounted the front,
outdoor stair; following her speech with a slight, unmusical laugh, and
fanning herself with unconscious fury.
"_Fe chaud_," she remarked again, taking the chair he offered and
continuing to ply the fan.
Pere Jerome laid his hat upon a chest of drawers, sat down opposite her,
and said, as he wiped his kindly face:
"Well, Madame Carraze?"
Gentle as the tone was, she started, ceased fanning, lowered the fan to
her knee, and commenced smoothing its feathers.
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