"Now for Isidore," I went on. I own I felt still more curious to see him than his rival; but Ginevra was absorbed in the latter.
"Alfred was admitted here to-night," said she, "through the influence of his aunt, Madame la Baronne de Dorlodot; and now, having seen him, can you not understand why I have been in such spirits all the evening, and acted so well and danced with such life, and why I am now happy as a queen? Dieu! Dieu! It was such good fun to glance first at him and then at the other, and madden them both".
"But that other—where is he? Show me Isidore".
"I don't like".
"Why not?"
"I am ashamed of him".
"For what reason?"
"Because—because" (in a whisper) "he has such—such whiskers, orange—red—there now!"
"The murder is out," I subjoined. "Never mind, show him all the same; I engage not to faint".
She looked round. Just then an English voice spoke behind her and me.
"You are both standing in a draught; you must leave this corridor".
"There is no draught, Dr. John", said I turning.
"She takes cold so easily", he pursued, looking at Ginevra with extreme kindness. "She is delicate; she must be cared for: fetch her a shawl".
"Permit me to judge for myself", said Miss Fanshawe, with hauteur. "I want no shawl".
"Your dress is thin, you have been dancing, you are heated".
"Always preaching", retorted she; "always coddling and admonishing."
The answer Dr. John would have given did not come; that his heart was hurt became evident in his eye; darkened, and saddened, and pained, he turned a little aside, but was patient. I knew where there were plenty of shawls near at hand; I ran and fetched one.
"She shall wear this if I have strength to make her," said I, folding it well round her muslin dress, covering carefully
