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You English are so
cold; Mademoiselle is not, but reminds me of the women of my own
love-warm, sun-lit land. It was my intention to have called upon
Mademoiselle Vernon at her hotel on to-morrow ere the sun had set, to
ask her if she would be the light of my life by doing me the great
honour of accepting my name, hand and fortune. I had been roaming
through the grounds meditating upon her many charms, and of how best I
could make my offer so as not to agitate her by its seeming
prematureness, when I was very much troubled on coming to the
conservatory (meaning to enter) to see you, a powerful rival, in the
blissful retirement of this boudoir with the woman I have, perhaps
unfortunately, conceived, such passionate love for. I was as if
chained to the spot and, when you were alone, determined to enter and
ask you if my worst fears are true. Are you a successful suitor for
the hand of Mademoiselle Vernon? Are you, Monsieur, anything to her?"
This had been, to say the least of it, a very trying night for
Lionel--and it seemed his troubles were not yet over.


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