Chapter 9

           Sixweekspassed.Rodolphedidnotcomeagain.Atlastoneeveningheappeared.

           Thedayaftertheshowhehadsaidtohimself—"Wemustn’tgobacktoosoon;thatwouldbeamistake."

           Andattheendofaweekhehadgoneoffhunting.Afterthehuntinghehadthoughtitwastoolate,andthenhereasonedthus—

           "Iffromthefirstdayshelovedme,shemustfromimpatiencetoseemeagainlovememore.Let’sgoonwithit!"

           Andheknewthathiscalculationhadbeenrightwhen,onenteringtheroom,hesawEmmaturnpale.

           Shewasalone.Thedaywasdrawingin.Thesmallmuslincurtainalongthewindowsdeepenedthetwilight,andthegildingofthebarometer,onwhichtheraysofthesunfell,shoneinthelooking-glassbetweenthemeshesofthecoral.

           Rodolpheremainedstanding,andEmmahardlyansweredhisfirstconventionalphrases.

           "I,"hesaid,"havebeenbusy.Ihavebeenill."

           "Seriously?"shecried.

           "Well,"saidRodolphe,sittingdownathersideonafootstool,"no;itwasbecauseIdidnotwanttocomeback."

           "Why?"

           "Canyounotguess?"

           Helookedatheragain,butsohardthatsheloweredherhead,blushing.Hewenton—

           "Emma!"

           "Sir,"shesaid,drawingbackalittle.