"Discouraging! It's impossible!" she cried. "I've been hoping against hope, but I see that now. I won't ask poppa to buy me another; it's too ridiculous. So there's nothing left except to go on by train everywhere, unless—you heard how kind Monsieur Talleyrand was about offering to take us on his car."
In the lantern light I thought I saw that she was beginning to look enigmatic, but I couldn't trust my eyes at this moment. There were a good many stars floating before them—not heavenly—the kind I should have liked to make Talleyrand see.
"Yes, miss, I heard," I said brutally, "and, of course, if you and your aunt would like that, I could wire to Mr. Barrow, the gentleman who went round the Château with us to-day, that I was free to take an engagement with him and his daughter."
She turned on me like a flash. "Oh, is that what you are thinking of? Well—certainly you may consider yourself free—perfectly free. You are under no contract. Go! go to-morrow—or even to-night if you wish. Leave me here with my car. I can go back to Paris, or—or somewhere."
"But I thought you were going on with the French gentleman?" I said.
"I should not think of going with him," she announced icily.
"You said"
"I said he invited me. I never said I meant to go; I couldn't have said it. For I should hate going with him. There would be no fun in that at all. I want my own car or none. But that need not matter to you. Go with your Barrows."
