He
sat, _le vieux_, in his chair away from the light, for his eyes were
bad, and listened. And I played well, for I was playing for the greatest
price I had ever commanded!"
"And then?" she asked softly, stroking her cheek with some young
beech-leaves.
"And then he kissed me, and--I took out my cheque-book," returned
Joyselle simply.
It was after four, and the wind had gone down, freeing the common from
the beautiful cloud-streams that had chased over it earlier in the day.
The red-headed girl and her young man had disappeared, and from where
they sat Joyselle and Brigit saw no signs of life.
"To-morrow it will be crowded with odious people," Brigit sighed.
"Why odious?"
"Well, I mean vulgar, noisy people."
He shook his head in a way that ruffled his halo of silver hair, and
laughed.
"You should not be a snob," he teased. "After all, you are marrying the
son of peasants."
"Peasants are different," she insisted, a little sulkily.
"Peasants are picturesque only in books, my dear. As for me, I like
happy people, and even your English 'noisy and vulgar' ones are happy, I
suppose, when they come up here on Sunday. Some day you and I will come
again.
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