"Ah, fie on you, Mr.
Maltravers!" cried Teresa, rising; "you have blown away all the characters I have been endeavouring this last hour to imprint upon sand." "Not so, Signora," said Maltravers, seating himself, and placing the child on his knee; "my young friend will set to work again with a greater gusto after this little break in upon his labours." "You will stay with us all day, I hope ?" said De Montaigne.
"Indeed," said Maltravers, "I am come to ask permission to do so, for to-morrow I depart for England." "Is it possible ?" cried Teresa.

"How sudden! How we shall miss you! Oh! don't go.

But perhaps you have bad news from England ?" "I have news that summon me hence," replied Maltravers; "my guardian and second father has been dangerously ill.

I am uneasy about him, and reproach myself for having forgotten him so long in your seductive society." "I am really sorry to lose you," said De Montaigne, with greater warmth in his tone than in his words.

"I hope heartily we shall meet again soon: you will come, perhaps, to Paris ?" "Probably," said Maltravers; "and you, perhaps, to England ?" "Ah, how I should like it!" exclaimed Teresa.
"No, you would not," said her husband; "you would not like England at all; you would call it _triste_ beyond measure.