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"Mademoiselle's hair has got loose and looks like a Huron's," said her maid Lizette, as her nimble fingers reaerranged the rich dark-golden locks of Angelique, which reached to the floor as she sat upon her fauteuil. "No matter, Lizette; do it up a la Pompadour, and make haste. My brain is in as great confusion as my hair. I need repose for an hour.
"Bessie?" he repeated, but this time there was a note of inquiry in his voice. The girl seemed bewildered, but she shook her head. "Zat is not my name, monsieur. It is Lizette. I am ze nurse." "That face! Those eyes!" breathed the agitated young man. "That voice, also! Bessie, you cannot deceive me!" "You gif me ze fear," said the nurse, shrinking away. "You look so very strange.
The following day Lizette seemed strangely overcome almost prostrated by what she claimed she had beheld from her window the previous night. Professing that she was quite ill, she kept to her room a great deal, permitting Maggie to care for the baby.
They're kissing and hugging each other, and crying, in the kitchen at this moment. Oh! I'm so happy the dear little thing!" If Lizette was happy she took a strange way to shew it, for she sat down beside Tom and began to sob. While the above conversation was going on up-stairs, another conversation interesting enough to deserve special notice was going on in the parlour.
"Not a bit of it, my dear fellow," he repeated. "This, I assure you, is my wife. Pray, dear Lizette, corroborate my statement, else our friends won't believe me. But sit down, sit down, and let's hear all about you. Go, Lizette, get 'em something to eat. I knew you would make your appearance ere long. Old Thompson's letter halloo! why what's this? You're wet! and who's this a wet little girl?"
He departed suddenly, leaving a gift in the hand of Lizette, who courtesied low to him with a smile of pleasure as he passed out, while Angelique leaned out of the window listening to his horse's hoofs until the last tap of them died away on the stony pavement. She threw herself upon her couch and wept silently. The soft music had touched her feelings.
Give me five hundred francs and your man is pinched to-night, for we spotted him yesterday!" "Five hundred francs for you alone!" cried Theodore Gaillard. "Lizette wants a shawl," said the spy, not a muscle of his face moving. "I call her Lizette because of Beranger." "You have a Lizette, and you stay in such a business!" cried the virtuous Gazonal. "It is amusing!
There was a fixedness in her look and a recklessness in her step that showed anger and determination. It struck Lizette with a sort of awe, so that, for once, she did not dare to accost her young mistress with her usual freedom. The maid opened the door and closed it again without offering a word, waiting in the anteroom until a summons should come from her mistress.
"Of course I can't," replied Tom, with affected impatience; "now, pray, don't ask me to try, else I shall leave you instantly." "What an impatient creature you are!" said Lizette. "Only think! I have discovered that my maid, whom we hired only two days ago, has "
"And it was natural they should pick out your house first, Merry," said Carson. They turned toward the house and paused again beneath the very tree where Berlin had stood when he heard the mingled voices of Lizette and the unknown man. As Frank and Hodge were talking, Carson turned away and walked a short distance toward the house. Stepping out from beneath the trees, he looked up.
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