your lips! your lips! What have those lips been
doing?"
He smilingly reassured her, with a slightly swaying motion of his body:
"No, indeed, I assure you, Nini, that’s straight. Mamma had gone on an errand,—yes, truly."
Eugénie repeated several times:
"Oh! you scamp, you scamp, I do not want you to be looking at other women. Your little phiz for me, your little mouth for me, your big eyes for me! Say, do you really love me?"
"Oh, yes, surely."
"Say it again."
"Oh! surely."
She leaped upon his neck, and, panting, led him into the adjoining room, stammering words of love.
William said to me:
"How she holds him! And what a pile this little chap costs her! Last week she gave him a complete new outfit. You would not love me like that."
This scene had stirred me deeply, and I promptly vowed a sister’s friendship for the poor Eugénie. This boy resembled M. Xavier. At least there was a moral similarity between these two beings,—so pretty, though so rotten. And this reminder made me sad,—oh! infinitely sad!
