He looked at her meekly, without answering; nor did she speak for a little; but she had all the advantage of her veil in that mute inquisition. “You are altered,” she said presently. “You look older and graver than you used.” “I am both,” he said. “Well, you have need to be serious. Also, I do not think you even as moderately good-looking as you were. But you are bronzed, which is something; and you have a scar on your temple. What have you been doing with yourself these eight months?” “I have been helping to fight Austria’s enemies.” “And have run away from them at last?” “Yes--during a truce, while they are trying to negotiate terms of peace.” “You have come to the wrong place for peace. You will soon find it so, unless you study more discretion. My God! the shock it was to me this morning to see you back again amongst us. What devil brought you? and why, having done wisely after all, couldn’t you let well alone?” “I couldn’t, that is why--for no reason, I suppose, but just that I am my own weak illogical self. I wanted to make sure that I had done right--to find out----” “What?” “If she were happy.” “Of course she is--that is to say as happy as it is proper for her to be under the circumstances. O, yes! it is quite consistent with your illogic, is it not, to give that sigh. If I had told you she was miserable, your face, no doubt, would have lighted up with a holy joy.” “Is the wedding-day fixed?” “It will be, sure and soon enough, when once we can cast our black. This misfortune--it is enough to make a saint blaspheme. But for its happening, it might likely have been fast-bind by this time; and then her felicity would have been her husband’s affair, and all would-be gallants might forego their tender concern--for her happiness, God preserve us!” “If she is happy and contented, Fanchette, what makes you so angry over the postponement?” “It aggravates me so to see you turn up again, when we had all thought you comfortably laid.” “Ah-ha! Now we are revealing. Who are the ‘we’?” “You are like to find out soon enough, unless you disappear as you came. I can tell you, monsieur, you went none too soon in the first instance.” “I was beginning to realise myself that I was getting unpopular. And yet I was only too attentive to my task. Fanchette?” “What do you want?” “I want you to raise your veil.” “Certainly I shall not.” “You are afraid that your eyes might betray what your lips conceal.” “O, indeed! And what is that?” “That she is not happy at all. That she is miserable.” “It is not true.” “O, Fanchette! Is it not? You professed to be my friend once.” “Am I not proving my friendship by meeting you like this--by running a hundred risks to save you from the consequences of your own madness?” “I am indifferent to all consequences, so I may but see her.” “Well, you have seen her; you have disturbed again the waters that had settled down so peacefully; and now I hope you are satisfied.”