“Has it ever occurred to you, little girl,” said the Vicomte d'Audierne suddenly, “to doubt the wisdom of the Creator's arrangements for our comfort, or otherwise, here below?”
“I suppose not,” he went on, without waiting for an answer, which she remembered as an old trick of his. “You are a woman--it is different for you.”
The girl said nothing. She may have thought differently; one cannot always read a maiden's thoughts.
They walked on together. Suddenly the Vicomte d'Audierne spoke.
Hilda followed the direction of his eyes.
“That,” she answered, “is Signor Bruno. An old Italian exile. A friend of ours.”
Bruno came forward, hat in hand, bowing and smiling in his charming way.
Hilda introduced the two men, speaking in French.
“I did not know,” said Signor Bruno, with outspread hands, “that you spoke French like a Frenchwoman.”
“Had it,” she said, with a sudden inspiration, “been Italian, I should have told you.”
There was a singular smile visible, for a moment only, in the eyes of the Vicomte d'Audierne, and then he spoke.
“Mademoiselle,” he said, “learnt most of it from me. We are old friends.”
Signor Bruno bowed. He did not look too well pleased.
“Ah--but is that so?” he murmured conversationally.
“Yes; I hope she learnt nothing else from me,” replied the Vicomte carelessly.
Hilda turned upon him with a questioning smile.
“I do not imagine, little girl,” replied d'Audierne, “that you could learn very much that is good from me.”
Hilda gave a non-committing little laugh, and led the way through the nut-trees towards the house. The Vicomte d'Audierne followed, and Signor Bruno came last. When they emerged upon the lawn in view of Mrs. Carew and Mr. Bodery, who were walking together, the Vicomte dropped his handkerchief. Signor Bruno attempted to pick it up, and there was a slight delay caused by the interchange of some Gallic politeness.
Before the two foreigners came up with Hilda, who had walked on, Signor Bruno found time to say:
“I must see you to-night, without fail; I am in a very difficult position. I have had to resort to strong measures.”
“Where?” inquired the Vicomte d'Audierne, with that pleasant nonchalance which is so aggravating to the People.
“In the village, any time after nine; a yellow cottage near the well.”