'The best place for what?'
'Well, to learn French.' The girl continued to smile.
'Do you mean for her? She'll never learn it; she can't.'
'No; for us. And other things.'
'You know it already. And you know other things,' said Raymond.
'She wants us to know them better--better than any girls know them.'
'I don't know what things you mean,' exclaimed the young man, rather impatiently.
'Well, we shall see,' Dora returned, laughing.
He said nothing for a minute, at the end of which he resumed: 'I hope you won't be offended if I say that it seems curious your mother should have such aspirations--such Napoleonic plans. I mean being just a quiet little lady from California, who has never seen any of the kind of thing that she has in her head.'
'That's just why she wants to see it, I suppose; and I don't know why her being from California should prevent. At any rate she wants us to have the best. Isn't the best taste in Paris?'
'Yes; and the worst.' It made him gloomy when she defended the old lady, and to change the subject he asked: 'Aren't you sorry, this last night, to leave your own country for such an indefinite time?'
It didn't cheer him up that the girl should answer: 'Oh, I would go anywhere with mother!'
'And with her?' Raymond demanded, sarcastically, as Mademoiselle Bourde came in sight, emerging from the drawing-room. She approached them; they met her in a moment, and she informed Dora that Mrs. Temperly wished her to come back and play a part of that composition of Saint-Saens--the last one she had been learning--for Mr. and Mrs. Parminter: they wanted to judge whether their daughter could manage it.
'I don't believe she can,' said Dora, smiling; but she was moving away to comply when her companion detained her a moment.
Are you going to bid me good-bye?'
'Won't you come back to the drawing-room?'
'I think not; I don't like it.'
'And to mamma--you'll say nothing?' the girl went on.
'Oh, we have made our farewell; we had a special interview this afternoon.'
'And you won't come to the ship in the morning?'
Raymond hesitated a moment. 'Will Mr. and Mrs. Parminter be there?'
'Oh, surely they will!' Mademoiselle Bourde declared, surveying the young couple with a certain tactful serenity, but standing very close to them, as if it might be her duty to interpose.
'Well then, I won't come.'
'Well, good-bye then,' said the girl gently, holding out her hand.
'Good-bye, Dora.' He took it, while she smiled at him, but he said nothing more--he was so annoyed at the way Mademoiselle Bourde watched them. He only looked at Dora; she seemed to him beautiful.
'My dear child--that poor Madame Parminter,' the governess murmured.
'I shall come over very soon,' said Raymond, as his companion turned away.
'That will be charming.' And she left him quickly, without looking back.
A London Life, and Other Tales · The Wunder Library — complete classics, free to read, with narration.