“You know I’m old-fashioned, Miss Stanley. The late afternoon, en effet. ‘But do you think I can blame you for this, Marthe?’ ‘I blame myself. ” She laughed. ‘Wait for me. Nothing like the direct approach, she thought. She recalled that she had heard nothing that first time when Gerald and the captain had burst in upon her. —Sorry to quit your lord—worships, I mean,—I don't know what I mean," she added, a little confused, and dropping a profound curtsey to the disguised noblemen, each of whom replied by a bow, worthy, in her opinion, of a prince of the blood at the least,—"but I've a few necessary orders to give below. It’s artificially chance. Oh, I grew fond of you as the years went by.
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