In the parlor there was a bowl of milk standing waiting for her, and some bread.
"Thank you so much," she said.

"Now I am going to make up the fire and read for a short time.

I hope that you will enjoy your supper--well, moderately," she added, with a little laugh.
"I can promise you," he answered, "that I shall enjoy it no more than last night's or to-morrow night's." She sighed.
"Poor little me!" she exclaimed.

"It is not fair to have to compete with Mademoiselle Idiale.

Good night!" Something he saw in her eyes moved him strangely as he turned away.
"Would you like me," he asked hesitatingly, "supposing I get away early--would you like me to come in and say good night to you later on ?" Her face was suddenly flushed with joy.
"Oh, do!" she begged.