"What have you been saying to her,
monsieur, to interest her so? Give me a leaf out of your book. I need
it."
The doctor was taken aback for a moment, but at last he said slyly, "I
have been proposing to her to name the day. She says she must consult
you before she decides that."
"Oh, you wicked doctor!--and consult HIM of all people!"
"So be off, both of you, and don't reappear before me till it is
settled."
Edouard's eyes sparkled. Rose went out with a face as red as fire.
It was a balmy evening. Edouard was to leave them for a week the next
day. They were alone: Rose was determined he should go away quite happy.
Everything was in Edouard's favor: he pleaded his cause warmly: she
listened tenderly: this happy evening her piquancy and archness seemed
to dissolve into tenderness as she and Edouard walked hand in hand under
the moon: a tenderness all the more heavenly to her devoted lover, that
she was not one of those angels who cloy a man by invariable sweetness.
For a little while she forgot everything but her companion. In that soft
hour he won her to name the day, after her fashion.
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