the way
he flew round he had the most enchanting time. She was aware of being
a good deal less accessible than the previous spring, for Mesdames de
Brecourt and de Cliche--the former indeed more than the latter--occupied
many of her hours. In spite of her having held off, to Gaston, from
a premature intimacy with his sisters, she spent whole days in their
company--they had so much to tell her of how her new life would shape,
and it seemed mostly very pleasant--and she thought nothing could be
nicer than that in these intervals he should give himself to her father,
and even to Delia, as had been his wont.

But the flaw of a certain insincerity in Mr. Flack's nature was
suggested by his present tendency to rare visits. He evidently didn't
care for her father in himself, and though this mild parent always took
what was set before him and never made fusses she is sure he felt their
old companion to have fallen away. There were no more wanderings in
public places, no more tryings of new cafes. Mr. Dosson used to look
sometimes as he had looked of old when George Flack "located" them
somewhere--as if he expected to see their heated benefactor rush back
to them with his drab overcoat flying in the wind; but this appearance
usually and rather touchingly subsided. He at any rate missed Gaston
because Gaston had this winter so often ordered his dinner for him; and
his society was not, to make it up, sought by the count and the marquis,
whose mastery of English was small and their other distractions great.
Mr. Probert, it was true, had shown something of a conversible spirit;
he had come twice to the hotel since his son's departure and had said,
smiling and reproachful, "You neglect us, you neglect us, my dear
sir!" The good man had not understood what was meant by this till Delia
explained after the visitor had withdrawn, and even then the remedy for
the neglect, administered two or three days later, had not borne any
copious fruit. Mr. Dosson called alone, instructed by his daughter, in
the Cours la Reine, but Mr. Probert was not at home. He only left a card
on which Delia had superscribed in advance, almost with the legibility
of print, the words "So sorry!" Her father had told her he would give in
the card if she wanted, but would have nothing to do with the writing.
There was a discussion as to whether Mr. Probert's remark was
an allusion to a deficiency of politeness on the article of his
sons-in-law. Oughtn't Mr. Dosson per