opportunity of addressing Francesca—who, in spite of herself, could not help blushing as she saw him approach, partly, it must be owned, from apprehension. He had usually contrived to say or to imply something disagreeable, and now he had such an opening.
She was pleasantly mistaken. His manner was respectful, and even kind, as he said, "I cannot depart for Sedan without entreating Mademoiselle la Carrara's forgiveness."
"A forgiveness most readily granted, did she know what there was to forgive."
"An unjust opinion. Is the offence quite unpardonable?"
"If concerning myself, I can assure you it is already forgotten."
"That is to say, you do not care what my opinion is, was, or may be."
"That is a very sweeping assertion," replied Francesca, hesitating, for the best reason in the world—because she really did not know what to say.
"Now," continued the Chevalier, "I feel sufficiently sorry for past injustice to be very desirous of both explanation and amendment. Mr. Evelyn"
"Perhaps," interrupted Francesca, "you will
