Arm in arm we loitered along the pleasant walks. The lovely flowers, the bright sun, the fresh fragrant breeze, all helped her to recover her spirits. She began to be like the happy Jeanne of my past experience, as easily pleased as a child. When we sat down to rest, the lap of her dress was full of daisies. "Do you remember," she said, "when you first taught me to make a daisy-chain? Are you too great a man to help me again now?"We were still engaged with our chain, seated close together, when the smell of tobacco-smoke was wafted to us on the air.
I looked up and saw the Doctor passing us, enjoying his cigar. He bowed; eyed my pretty companion with a malicious smile; and passed on.
"Who is that man?" she asked.
"The Prince's physician," I replied.
"I don't like him," she said; "why did he smile when he looked at me?""Perhaps," I suggested, "he thought we were lovers."She blushed. "Don't let him think that! tell him we are only old friends."We were not destined to finish our flower chain on that day.
