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IV.
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“Oh, what a time you have been, Aimée!” cried Miss Berrien as she opened the door. “I have been in an agony! What kept you so long?”
“Have I been long?” said Aimée. She was almost breathless, and as she sank down on the first seat at hand, pale and trembling now that the need for exertion was past, Fanny’s heart smote her for her words of reproach.
“Of course it has seemed long to me,” she said, “but I do not suppose it really has been long; and what does it matter about me in comparison to you—you poor, brave child! What a selfish wretch I was to send you! You look perfectly overcome, and I have not even a glass of wine to give you.”
“I don’t want any wine,” said Aimée. “After a while—when my heart stops beating so dreadfully—I will tell you—all about it.”
“Yes,” said Fanny, eagerly, “but at least you can tell me this now—did you see him?”
Aimée nodded, being for the moment past speech; and Miss Berrien at once locked the door, as if she feared Mr. Kyrle might be on the other side. Then she watched Aimée anxiously, and when the latter presently opened her lips as if to speak, interposed with a warning whisper: