"They are very busy--and they are ill," said the young woman, by way of
explanation.
Bernard was disappointed, and he felt like arguing the case.
"Surely," he said, "they are not both ill and busy! When you make
excuses, you should make them agree with each other."
The Teutonic soubrette fixed her round blue eyes a minute upon the patch
of blue sky revealed to her by her open door.
"I say what I can, lieber Herr. It 's not my fault if I 'm not so clever
as a French mamsell. One of the ladies is busy, the other is ill. There
you have it."
"Not quite," said Bernard. "You must remember that there are three of
them."
"Oh, the little one--the little one weeps."
"Miss Evers weeps!" exclaimed Bernard, to whom the vision of this young
lady in tears had never presented itself.
"That happens to young ladies when they are unhappy," said the girl; and
with an artless yet significant smile she carried a big red hand to the
left side of a broad bosom.
"I am sorry she is unhappy; but which of the other ladies is ill?"
"The mother is very busy."
"And the daughter is ill?"
The young woman looked at him an instant, smiling again, and the light
in her little blue eyes indicated confusion, but not perversity.
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