Le Mire positively sparkled.

She made her impression; not a man in the well-filled room but
sent his tribute of admiring glances as she sat seemingly
unconscious of all but Harry and myself. That is always
agreeable; a man owes something to the woman who carries a room
for him.

I had intended to have a talk with Harry after dinner, but I
postponed it; the morning would assuredly be better. There was
dancing in the salon, but we were all too tired to take advantage
of it; and after listening to one or two numbers, during which Le
Mire was kept busy turning aside the importunities of would-be
partners, we said good night and sought our beds.

It was late the next morning when the precious pair joined me in
the garden, and when we went in for breakfast we found the
dining-room quite empty. We did not enjoy it as on the morning
previous; the cuisine was of the kind usually--and in this case
justly--described as "superior," but we did not have the same
edge on our appetite.

We were not very talkative; I myself was almost taciturn, having
before me the necessity of coming to an understanding with Harry,
a task which I was far from relishing. But there were certain
things I must know.

"What do you say to a ride down the valley?" said Harry. "They
have excellent horses here; I tried one of 'em the other day."