"The fact is," said Vernon, "he--he did not understand our friendship in the least. I imagine friendship was not invented when he was young. It's a tiresome subject, Miss Desmond; let's drop it--shall we?"
"If you like," said she, chilly as December.
"Oh, well then, just let me say it was done for your sake, Miss Desmond. He had no idea that two people should have any interests in common except--except matters of the heart, and the shortest way to convince him was to tell him that my heart was elsewhere. I don't like lies, but there are some people who insist on lies--nothing else will convince them of the truth. Here comes some abhorrent preparation of rice. How goes it with art?"
"I have been working very hard," she said, "but every day I seem to know less and less."
"Oh, that's all right! It's only that every day one knows more and more--of how little one does know. You'll have to pass many milestones before you pass out of that state. Do they always feed you like this here?"
"Some days it's custard," said Betty, "but we've only been here a week."
"We're friends again now, aren't we?" he questioned suddenly.
"Yes--oh, yes!"
"Then I may ask questions. I want to hear what you've been doing since we parted, and where you've been, and how you come to Paris--and where your aunt is, and what she'll say to me when she comes in."
"She likes you," said Betty, "and she won't come in, but Madame Gautier will. Aunt Julia went off this morning--she couldn't delay any longer because of catching the P. & O. at Brindisi; and I'm to wait here till Madame Gautier comes at three. Auntie came all the way back from America to see whether I was happy here. She is a dear!"
"And who is Madame Gautier? Is she also a dear? But let's have our coffee in the salon--and tell me everything from the beginning."
"Yes," said Betty, "oh, yes!"
But the salon window was darkened by a passing shape.
"My uncle, bless him!" said Vernon. "I must go. See, here's my card! Won't you write and tell me all about everything? You will, won't you?"
"Yes, but you musn't write to me. Madame Gautier opens all our letters, and friendships weren't invented when she was young either. Good-bye."
Vernon had to go towards the strong English voice that was filling the hall with its inquiries for "Ung Mossoo--ung mossoo Anglay qui avoir certainmong etty icy ce mattan."