Léonie fetched it meekly.
‘I do not like to feel a riband in my hair,’ she complained. ‘I would rather –’
‘It is of no consequence at all,’ said Fanny severely. ‘I am determined you shall look your best. Shake out your petticoat, and pick up your fan. And if you dare to run forward in an unmaidenly way I shall be so mortified –’
‘Let me go now! Please, I am ready!’
‘Then follow me, child, so!’ Out swept Fanny, and down the stairs. ‘Remember! A decorous curtsy, my love, and give him your hand to kiss.’ As she spoke she opened the door into the withdrawing-room.
‘Bah!’ said Léonie.
His Grace was standing by the window, looking out.
‘So my sister has not induced you to stop saying “bah”?’ he said, and turned. For a moment he said nothing, but stood looking at his ward. ‘Infant, it is very well,’ he said at last, slowly.
Léonie sank into a curtsy, talking all the time.
‘I must do this because madame says so, and you bade me do as she told me, Monseigneur, but oh, I would rather bow to you!’ She rose gracefully, and danced forward. ‘Monseigneur, Monseigneur, I thought that you would never come! I am so very pleased to see you!’ She caught his hand to her lips. ‘I have been good and patient, and now will you take me, please?’
‘Léonie!’
‘Well, but madame, I want so much for him to take me.’
Avon raised his eyeglass.
‘Stand still, child. Fanny, I kiss your hands and feet. I am almost surprised at the miracle you have wrought.’
‘Monseigneur, do you think that I am nice?’ asked Léonie, tiptoeing before him.
‘It’s an inadequate word, child. You are no longer Léon.’
She sighed, shaking her head.
‘I wish I were Léon still. Monseigneur, do you understand what it is to be put into petticoats?’
Fanny started, and frowned direfully.
‘Naturally I do not, my beautiful ward,’ Justin answered gravely. ‘I can imagine that after the freedom of your breeches, petticoats are a little cramping.’
Léonie turned triumphantly to Fanny.
‘Madame, he said it! You heard him! He spoke of breeches!’
‘Léonie – Justin, I’ll not have you let her bewail her – her breeches – as she is for ever doing! And don’t, don’t say bah, Léonie!’
‘She has fatigued you, my dear? I believe I warned you that she was something of a rogue.’
Fanny relented.
‘Indeed, and we love her dearly! I could wish that you would leave her with us longer.’
Léonie took a firm hold on Avon’s coat sleeve.
‘You won’t, will you, Monseigneur?’
He disengaged himself.
‘My infant, you must strive to be more polite. One would infer that you had been unhappy with Lady Fanny.’