"
But Count Paul smilingly shook his head.
"I have no intention of ever going there," he said deliberately. "You see
I do not like them! I suppose--I hope"--he looked again straight into
Sylvia Bailey's ingenuous blue eyes--"that the Wachners have never tried
to borrow money of you?"
"Never!" she cried, blushing violently. "Never, Count Paul! Your dislike
of my poor friends makes you unjust--it really does."
"It does! It does! I beg their pardon and yours. I was foolish, nay, far
worse, indiscreet, to ask you this question. I regret I did so. Accept my
apology."
She looked at him to see if he was sincere. His face was very grave; and
she looked at him with perplexed, unhappy eyes.
"Oh, don't say that!" she said. "Why should you mind saying anything to
me?"
But the Comte de Virieu was both vexed and angry with himself.
"It is always folly to interfere in anyone else's affairs," he muttered.
"But I have this excuse--I happen to know that last week, or rather ten
days ago, the Wachners were in considerable difficulty about money. Then
suddenly they seemed to have found plenty, in fact, to be as we say here,
'_a flot_'; I confess that I foolishly imagined, nay, I almost hoped,
that they owed this temporary prosperity to you! But of course I had no
business to think about it at all--still less any business to speak to
you about the matter.
Pages:
245
246
247
248
249
250
251
252
253
254
255
256
257
258
259
260
261
262
263
264
265
266
267
268
269