He will be among the first. It will soon be over.
To-morrow war is to be declared."
They were in the street--not far from the Frauengasse, whence
Desiree, always practical, was hurrying towards the market-place.
De Casimir had seemed idle until he perceived her.
Desiree made a little movement of horror at the announcement. She
did not know that the fighting had already begun.
"Ah!" cried de Casimir with a reassuring smile. "You must be of
good cheer. There will be no war at all. I tell you that in
confidence. Russia will be paralyzed. I was going towards the
Frauengasse when I perceived you; to pay my respects to your father,
to say a word to you. Come--you are smiling again. That is right.
You were so grave, madame, as you hurried along with your eyes
looking far away. You must not think of Charles, if the thoughts
make you look as you looked then."
His manner was kind and confidential and easy--inviting in response
that which the confidential always expect, a return in kind. It is
either hit or miss with such people; and de Casimir missed. He saw
Desiree draw back. She was young, and of that clear fairness of
skin which seems to let the thoughts out through the face so that
any can read them. That which her face expressed at that moment was
a clear and definite refusal to confide anything whatsoever in this
little dark man who stood in front of her, looking into her eyes
with a deferential and sympathetic glance.
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