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Céline turned toward him an awe-struck countenance and motioned him to be silent. He tip-toed from the room, thoroughly frightened and nervous, and sent a message to Lucian Davlin forthwith. When he was safely away, Cora awoke from her nap, and desired Céline to let in more light.
At this Celine, who had been looking around her with an air of interest, piteously exclaimed: "Oh! no, oh! no, mamma, they won't hurt him!" Big tears appeared in the child's eyes as she raised this cry. Guillaume kissed her, and then went on questioning Madame Theodore.
Excess of nervous excitement, the wealth of evening sunlight, and her fashion of dressing made her dazzling to look upon, and I stood for a second in silence. She misunderstood my pause and glance, and a rush of hot colour came into her face, and the tears suddenly started to her eyes. "You don't like my dress," she exclaimed. "I told Celine she was cutting it too low!"
Then, as Celine came back with the loaf and the wine, the three of them tried to make Laveuve more comfortable, raised him on his heap of rags, gave him to eat and to drink, and then left the remainder of the wine and the loaf a large four-pound loaf near him, recommending him to wait awhile before he finished the bread, as otherwise he might stifle.
Alicia remembered afterwards to smile at it, that her first ten minutes of intercourse with Hilda Howe were dominated by a lively desire to set Celine at her with such a foundation to work upon what could Celine not have done?
At last, when he was thirty, he was stupid enough to go to America with an inventor, who traded on him to such a point that after six years of it he came back ill and penniless. I must tell you that he had married my younger sister Leonie, and that she died before he went to America, leaving him little Celine, who was then only a year old.
During these days of ennui and quietude, the two came to a very good understanding; not all at once, and not at all definite. Only, by degrees, Cora became convinced that Céline Leroque cherished a very laudable contempt for her would-be-girlish mistress, and that she was becoming rather weary in her service.
Perhaps Céline Leroque knew by instinct that the master of Oakley cherished an aversion to French maids in particular; or perhaps she was an exceptional French maid, and craved neither the smiles nor slyly administered caresses, that fell to the lot of pretty femmes de chambre, at least in novels.
A fatalist as he was after his own fashion, he could not find strength to quit the pavements of Paris, but there awaited arrest, like a social waif carried chancewise through the multitude as in a dream. "And your daughter, little Celine?" Guillaume inquired. "Have you ventured to go back to see her?" Salvat waved his hand in a vague way. "No, but what would you have? She's with Mamma Theodore.
You have heard of these ladies in society, no doubt, Mr. Davlin?" "Oh, certainly," aloud, "not," aside. "And the name of the maid?" pursued Lucian. "Her name," referring to the letter, "Céline Leroque French, I presume." "No doubt," dryly. "Stop him, Miss Arthur," interrupted Cora, prettily; "he will certainly ask if she is handsome, if you let him open his mouth again."
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