The blood mounted to her face, to ebb again upon the instant, leaving it paler than it had been.

She made as if to depart; then she appeared to check herself, and stood immovable and outwardly calm, awaiting my approach.
But her eyes were averted, and her bosom rose and fell too swiftly to lend colour to that mask of indifference she hurriedly put on.

Yet, as I drew nigh, she was the first to speak, and the triviality of her words came as a shock to me, and for all my knowledge of woman's way caused me to doubt for a moment whether perhaps her calm were not real, after all.
"You are a laggard this morning, Monsieur de Lesperon." And, with a half laugh, she turned aside to break a rose from its stem.
"True," I answered stupidly; "I slept over-late." "A thousand pities, since thus you missed seeing Mademoiselle de Marsac.
Have they told you that she was here ?" "Yes, mademoiselle.

Stanislas de Marsac left a letter for me." "You will regret not having seen them, no doubt ?" quoth she.
I evaded the interrogative note in her voice.

"That is their fault.