“I hope you will excuse me, if I leave you; but I must go out.”
“At this hour?” cried Aunt Elizabeth. “Where are you going?”
“To my dressmakers, the Misses Mechinet. I want a dress.”
“Great God!” cried Aunt Adelaide, “the child is losing her mind!”
“I assure you I am not, aunt.”
“Then let me go with you.”
“Thank you, no. I shall go alone; that is to say, alone with dear
grandpapa.”
And as M. de Chandore came back, his pockets full of bonds, his hat on
his head, and his cane in his hand, she carried him off, saying,--
“Come, quick, dear grandpapa, we are in a great hurry.”