“Whether I’m worth knowing?” She considered, then bent forward eagerly.  “Look here!  I’ll just tell you everything in a lump, and then that’ll do—­won’t it?  Listen.  I’m just eighteen.  I was sent to the Soeurs Blanches when I was thirteen—­the year papa died.  I didn’t like papa—­I’m very sorry, but I didn’t!  However, that’s by-the-way.  In all those years I have only seen maman once—­she doesn’t like children.  But my aunt Grosville has some French relations—­very, very ’comme il faut,’ you understand—­and I used to go and stay with them for the holidays.  Tell me!—­did you ever hunt in France?”

“Never,” said Ashe, startled and amused by the sudden glance of enthusiasm that lit up the face and expressed itself in the clasped hands.

“Oh! it’s such heaven,” she said, lifting her shoulders with an extravagant gesture—­“such heaven!  First there are the old dresses—­the men look such darlings!—­and then the horns, and the old ways they have—­si noble!—­si distingue!—­not like your stupid English hunting.  And then the dogs!  Ah! the dogs”—­the shoulders went higher still; “do you know my cousin Henri actually gave me a puppy of the great breed—­the breed, you know—­the Dogs of St. Hubert.  Or at least he would if maman would have let me bring it over.  And she wouldn’t!  Just think of that!  When there are thousands of people in France who’d give the eyes out of their head for one.  I cried all one night—­Allons!—­faut pas y penser!”—­she shook back the hair from her eyes with an impatient gesture.  “My cousins have got a chateau, you know, in the Seine-et-Oise.  They’ve promised to ask me next year—­when the Grand-Duke Paul comes—­if I’ll promise to behave.  You see, I’m not a bit like French girls—­I had so many affairs!”

Her eyes flashed with laughter.

Ashe laughed too.

“Are you going to tell me about them also?”

She drew herself up.

“No!  I play fair, always—­ask anybody!  Oh, I do want to go back to
France so badly!” Once more she was all appeal and childishness. 
“Anyway, I won’t stay in England!  I have made up my mind to that!”

“How long has it taken?”

“A fortnight,” she said, slowly—­“just a fortnight.”

“That hardly seems time enough—­does it?” said Ashe.  “Give us a little longer.”

“No—­I—­I hate you!” said Lady Kitty, with a strange drop in her voice.  Her little fingers began to drum on the table near her, and to Ashe’s intense astonishment he saw her eyes fill with tears.

Suddenly a movement towards the other room set in around them.  Madame d’Estrees could be heard giving directions.  A space was made in the large drawing-room—­a little table appeared in it, and a footman placed thereon a glass of water.

Lady Kitty looked up.

“Oh, that detestable man!” she said, drawing back.  “No—­I can’t, I can’t bear it.  Come with me!” and beckoning to Ashe she fled with precipitation into the farther part of the inner drawing-room, out of her mother’s sight.  Ashe followed her, and she dropped panting and elate into a chair.