Now he could not speak through his hands; and he could not face a brace of tranquil lionesses: so he took a middle course, removed one hand, and shading himself from Josephine with the other, he gasped out, "I am--my name is Riviere; and I--I--ladies!" "I am afraid we frighten you," said Josephine, demurely.
"Don't be frightened," said Rose, majestically; "we are not VERY angry, only a LITTLE curious to know why you water our flowers with gold." At this point-blank thrust, and from her, Edouard was so confounded and distressed, they both began to pity him.

He stammered out that he was so confused he did not know what to say.

He couldn't think how ever he could have taken such a liberty; might he be permitted to retire?
and with this he tried to slip away.
"Let me detain you one instant," said Josephine, and made for the house.
Left alone so suddenly with the culprit, the dignity, and majesty, and valor of Rose seemed to ooze gently out; and she stood blushing, and had not a word to say; no more had Edouard.

But he hung his head, and she hung her head.

And, somehow or other, whenever she raised her eyes to glance at him, he raised his to steal a look at her, and mutual discomfiture resulted.
This awkward, embarrassing delirium was interrupted by Josephine's return.