Joyselle,"--she was laughing, laughing
with delightful amusement. He was too delicious! Then she added hastily,
"You are crushing my hands!"
Sitting down by her, he patted her reddened fingers tenderly. "_Chere
enfant, chere enfant_, forgive an old papa--_qui t'a fait bobo_--and you
are actually going to marry my Theo?"
"I am."
"Then," with a solemnity that was as overwhelming as his joy, he
returned, bowing his head as if in church, "_il a une sacree chance_. He
is--the luckiest boy in the world."
Brigit had forgotten what boredom meant. This spontaneous, warm-hearted
person with--oh, horror,--a white satin tie, and a low, turned-down
collar, filled her with the gentlest and most affectionate amusement.
And as he was to be her father-in-law, why not enjoy him? "It is kind
of you to be so pleased," she said, "it is very interesting, our meeting
like this----"
"Interesting! It is--romance, my dear, romance, of the most unusual. And
you are so beautiful that I cannot look away from you. He told me you
were beautiful--yes--but I had pictured to myself a pink and white miss
with a head as big as a pumpkin--and, just Heaven--a 'drawing-room
voice.' Tell me, oh, tell me, _fille adoree_, that you do not sing!"
His anxiety was perfectly sincere, and she hastened to reassure him.
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