I, too, am travelling in that direction.

A bientot, Mesdemoiselles!" The whip cracked, the coach began to move, and the creaking of its wheels drowned, so far as I was concerned, the female voices that answered his farewell.

The coachman roused his horses into an amble; the amble became a trot, and the vehicle vanished round a corner.

Some few idlers stopped to gaze stupidly after it, but not half so stupidly as did my poor Andrea, standing bareheaded where the coach had left him.
I drew near, and laid my hand on his shoulder; at the touch he started like one awakened suddenly, and looked up.
"Ah--you are returned, Gaston." "To find that you have made a discovery, and are overwhelmed by your error." "My error ?" "Yes--that of falling in love with the wrong one.

Helas, it is but one of those ironical jests wherewith Fate amuses herself at every step of our lives.