There was the cottage she had inhabited for so many years,—in those fields she had rambled,—at that church she had prayed. “It is such a very respectable boarding-house,” she said. ‘Mademoiselle,’ he had greeted her, entering the little private parlour where, Martha being at prayer in their room, she sat alone, reading over and over the letter Mother Abbess had given her and revolving plans in her head. He was no longer in military uniform, and it was evident from his suit of brown brocade that he had been disturbed while preparing for an evening engagement. ’ He smiled down at her. Paris was full, and it was by no means a retired spot which she had found. Mr. ‘She wants me to marry her. He reappeared in street clothes, his cropped hair not even damp from the shower, fresh-faced and sweetsmelling.
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