one off
somewhere, and Madame Piriac and Audrey had returned to Paris, and had
found that practically all Paris had returned to Paris too. And on the
first meeting with Mr. Gilman it had been at once established that his
feelings and those of Audrey had surmounted the Piriac test. Within
forty-eight hours all persons interested had mysteriously assumed that Mr.
Gilman and Audrey were coupled together by fate and that a delicious crisis
was about to supervene in their earthly progress. And they had become
objects of exquisite solicitude. They had also become perfect. A circle of
friends and acquaintances waited in excited silence for a palpitating
event, as a populace waits for the booming gunfire which is to inaugurate a
national rejoicing. And when the news exuded that he was taking her for a
drive to Meudon, which she had never seen, alone, all decided beyond any
doubt that _he would do it during the drive_.

Hence the nice constraint at the table when the drive grew publicly and
avowedly imminent.

Audrey, as the phrase is, "felt her position keenly," but not unpleasantly,
nor with understanding. Not a word had passed of late between herself and
Mr. Gilman that any acquaintance might not have listened to. Indeed, Mr.
Gilman had become slightly more formal. She liked him for that, as she
liked him for a large number of qualities. She did not know whether she
loved him. And strange to say, the question did not passionately interest
her. The only really interesting questions were: Would he propose to her?
And would she accept him? She had no logical ground for assuming that he
would propose to her. None of her friends had informed her of the general
expectation that he would propose to her. Yet she knew that everybody
expected him to propose to her quite soon--indeed within the next couple of
hours. And she felt that everybody was right. The universe was full of
mysteries for Audrey. As regards her answer to any proposal, she
foresaw--another mystery--that it would not depend upon self-examination or
upon reason, or upon anything that could be defined. It would depend upon
an instinct over which her mind--nay, even her heart--had no control. She
was quite certainly aware that this instinct would instruct her brain to
instruct her lips to say "Yes." The idea of saying "No" simply could not be
conceived. All the forces in the universe would combine to prevent her from
saying "No."

The one thing that might have countere