"
"I did not ask you where you were yesterday," replied the girl,
saucily.
Theophile shrugged his shoulders and changed the conversation.
The next week there was a birthday fete in honour of Louise,
Theophile's young sister. Everyone was bidden, and no one
thought of refusing, for Louise was young, and this would be her
first party. So, though the night was hot, the dancing went on
as merrily as light young feet could make it go. Claralie
fluffed her dainty white skirts, and cast mischievous sparkles in
the direction of Theophile, who with the maman and Louise was
bravely trying not to look self-conscious. Manuela, tall and
calm and proud-looking, in a cool, pale yellow gown was
apparently enjoying herself without paying the slightest
attention to her young host.
"Have I the pleasure of this dance?" he asked her finally, in a
lull of the music.
She bowed assent, and as if moved by a common impulse they
strolled out of the dancing-room into the cool, quaint garden,
where jessamines gave out an overpowering perfume, and a caged
mocking-bird complained melodiously to the full moon in the sky.
It must have been an engrossing tete-a-tete, for the call to
supper had sounded twice before they heard and hurried into the
house. The march had formed with Louise radiantly leading on the
arm of papa. Claralie tripped by with Leon. Of course, nothing
remained for Theophile and Manuela to do but to bring up the
rear, for which they received much good-natured chaffing.
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