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At this moment, a slight movement was observed among the crowd, and two men were brought forward, and placed beside André. At their appearance, a scream escaped from Lucille; and, turning to her mother, she pointed them out, while the name of Jules Giraud burst from her lips. Hearing his own name, one of the men looked up, and glanced towards the spot where the young girl stood.
A week later was the unveiling of the statue of Camille Desmoulins in the garden of the Palais Royal, this being the one-hundredth anniversary of the day on which, in that garden, and, indeed, on that spot, before the Cafe Foy, he had roused the mob which destroyed the Bastille and begun the whirlwind which finally swept away so much and so many, including himself and his beloved Lucille.
Smoke obeyed her call with alacrity. The man did not exist in Dawson who would not have been flattered by the notice of Lucille Arral, the singing soubrette of the tiny stock company that performed nightly at the Palace Opera House. "Things are dead," she complained, with pretty petulance, as soon as they had shaken hands. "There hasn't been a stampede for a week.
At any rate, if Victor does not come to me in Paris I shall go to him." "What beautiful trust!" Lady Carey answered. "My dear Lucille, you are more like a school-girl than a woman of the world." A steward entered with a telegram for Lucille. It was banded in at the Haymarket, an hour before their departure. Lucille read it, and her face blanched.
Ten minutes passed a quarter of an hour. Then Lady Carey with Lucille reappeared, and stepping quickly into the victoria were driven away. The Prince drew a little sigh of relief. He looked at his watch, called a hansom, and drove to his club for lunch. Another man, who had also been watching Dorset House from the gardens for several hours, also noted Lucille's advent with relief.
Will you pardon me, my friend, if I venture upon one other word. Lucille is not an ordinary woman. She is not in the least like the majority of her sex, especially, I might add, amongst us. The fact that her husband was living would seriously influence her consideration of any other man as her lover. The present crisis, however, has changed everything.
"I thank you for your invitation, but I fear that it would not be good for my health. Lady Carey looked over her shoulder. She laughed hardly. "How brutal!" she murmured. "But, then, Victor can be brutal sometimes, can't he?" Lucille tore it into small pieces without a word. Lady Carey waited for a remark from her in vain. "I, too," she said at last, "have had some telegrams.
Lucille was noble, generous, and true in her affection. Her ideal of marriage was that the busy shuttle of life must be of Divine guidance, and often she was at a loss to understand some of the deep mysteries that had clouded her own life. Of this world's blessings her life had been full, except she could not reconcile some of her late experiences. Of this, of course, Leo knew nothing.
It was one of her own offspring, only shorn of its unessential adornments. "Where in the world did you hear any such absurd thing as that?" she demanded severely. "I heard Lucille Carter tell it at a fudge party up in Bonnie Connaught's room last night," answered the sophomore, stoutly, sure that the source was a reputable one. Patty groaned.
And now he's dreadfully hurt." "You poor little darling! What a horrid time you've been having all this time everybody's been thinking you were looking forward to his coming home. Why, you must have nearly gone crazy!" "It's worse for him," said Marjorie in a subdued voice, nestling down on Lucille's shoulder. "Oh, I don't know," said Lucille comfortably.
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