The
lamps were not all extinguished here; the wet leaves glistened
as the wind swept the branches to and fro, and Horace, as he
entered, could see Madelon sitting by the little table,
trembling and shivering, her hair all blown about and shining
in the uncertain light. What had suddenly come over her?
Graham was fairly perplexed.
"Madelon," he said, going up to her, "what is the matter? has
anything happened, or any one vexed you?"
"_Non, non_," she cried, jumping up impatiently, and speaking in
French as she sometimes did when excited, "_je n'ai rien--rien du
tout;_ leave me, Monsieur Horace, I beg of you! How you weary
me with your questions! I was rather hot, and came here for a
little fresh air. That was all."
"You are cooler now," said graham, as she stood drawing her
shawl round her, her teeth chattering.
"Yes," she said, with a little shiver, "it is rather cold
here, and damp; it is raining, is it not? Let us go back and
dance. I adore dancing; it was papa who first taught it to me;
do you know, Monsieur Horace? He taught me a great many
things.
Pages:
554
555
556
557
558
559
560
561
562
563
564
565
566
567
568
569
570
571
572
573
574
575
576
577
578