"I expect nothing else!" said she. "I am a soldier's
daughter, and expect to live a soldier's wife, and die a soldier's
widow. But a truce to jest. It is harder to be witty than wise,"
continued she. "What is the matter with Cousin Le Gardeur?" Her
eyes were fixed upon him as he read a note just handed to him by a
servant. He crushed it in his hand with a flash of anger, and made
a motion as if about to tear it, but did not. He placed it in his
bosom. But the hilarity of his countenance was gone.
There was another person at the table whose quick eye, drawn by
sisterly affection, saw Le Gardeur's movement before even Hortense.
Amelie was impatient to leave her seat and go beside him, but she
could not at the moment leave the lively circle around her. She at
once conjectured that the note was from Angelique des Meloises.
After drinking deeply two or three times Le Gardeur arose, and with
a faint excuse that did not impose on his partner left the table.
Amelie rose quickly also, excusing herself to the Bourgeois, and
joined her brother in the park, where the cool night air blew fresh
and inviting for a walk.
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