small knowledge of the language distressingly. Yet the words, and her
manner, and something else that lay behind it all in her mind,
frightened him. It gave such point to his feeling that the town was
waiting for him to make his mind up on some important matter.

At the same time, her voice, and the fact that she was there so close
beside him in her soft dark dress, thrilled him inexpressibly.

"It is true I find it difficult to leave," he stammered, losing his way
deliciously in the depths of her eyes, "and especially now that
Mademoiselle Ilsé has come."

He was surprised at the success of his sentence, and quite delighted
with the little gallantry of it. But at the same time he could have
bitten his tongue off for having said it.

"Then after all you like our little town, or you would not be pleased to
stay on," she said, ignoring the compliment.

"I am enchanted with it, and enchanted with you," he cried, feeling that
his tongue was somehow slipping beyond the control of his brain. And he
was on the verge of saying all manner of other things of the wildest
description, when the girl sprang lightly up from her chair beside him,
and made to go.

"It is _soupe à l'onion_ to-day!" she cried, laughing back at him
through the sunlight, "and I must go and see about it. Otherwise, you
know, M'sieur will not enjoy his dinner, and then, perhaps, he will
leave us!"