It is probable that, in the last analysis, what she meant was that Felix should spare her the necessity of stating the case more exactly and should hold himself commissioned to assist her by all honorable means to marry the best fellow in the world.
But in all this it was never discovered what Felix understood.
"Once you have your liberty, what are your objections?" he asked.
"Well, I don't particularly like him."
"Oh, try a little."
"I am trying now," said Eugenia. "I should succeed better if he did n't live here. I could never live here."
"Make him go to Europe," Felix suggested.
"Ah, there you speak of happiness based upon violent effort," the Baroness rejoined. "That is not what I am looking for.
He would never live in Europe."
"He would live anywhere, with you!" said Felix, gallantly.
His sister looked at him still, with a ray of penetration in her charming eyes; then she turned away again. "You see, at all events," she presently went on, "that if it had been said of me that I had come over here to seek my fortune it would have to be added that I have found it!"
"Don't leave it lying!" urged Felix, with smiling solemnity.
"I am much obliged to you for your interest," his sister declared, after a moment. "But promise me one thing: pas de zele!
If Mr. Acton should ask you to plead his cause, excuse yourself."
"I shall certainly have the excuse," said Felix, "that I have a cause of my own to plead."
"If he should talk of me--favorably," Eugenia continued, "warn him against dangerous illusions. I detest importunities;
I want to decide at my leisure, with my eyes open."
"I shall be discreet," said Felix, "except to you.
To you I will say, Accept him outright."
She had advanced to the open door-way, and she stood looking at him.
"I will go and dress and think of it," she said; and he heard her moving slowly to her apartments.
Late in the afternoon the rain stopped, and just afterwards there was a great flaming, flickering, trickling sunset.