"I know. But honestly, I'm lazy to-night."

Vere looked disappointed. She took away her hand gently.

"Then we'll stay with you, won't we, Monsieur Emile?"

"No, Vere," said her mother quickly, before he could answer. "You two
go. I sha'n't be dull. You won't be very long?"

"No, of course. But--"

"Go, dearest, go. Are you going to row, Emile?"

"I could. Or shall we take Gaspare?"

"It's Gaspare's supper-time," said Vere.

"Hush, then!" said Artois, putting his finger to his lips. "Let us
creep down softly, or he will think it his duty to come with us,
starving, and that would spoil everything. Au revoir, Hermione," he
whispered.

"Good-bye, Madre," whispered Vere.

They glided away, the big man and the light-footed child, going on
tiptoe with elaborate precaution.

As Hermione looked after them, she said to herself:

"How young Emile is to-night!"