flash--the quick-witted poltroons exchanged purple lightning over
Edouard's drooping head, and enacted lionesses in a moment.

It was with the quiet composure of lofty and powerful natures that
Josephine opened on him. "Compose yourself, sir; and be so good as
to tell us who you are." Edouard must answer. 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.