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Updated: May 10, 2025
I looked in the fellow's face: there could be no denying it; Césarine's young man was Paul Finglemore, our broker's brother. "Paul Finglemore," Charles said severely, "otherwise Cuthbert Clay, I arrest you on several charges of theft and conspiracy!" The young man glanced around him. He was surprised and perturbed; but, even so, his inexhaustible coolness never once deserted him.
"It is because, mademoiselle, there is indeed no possible comparison between you, who are a wealthy heiress, and whose life is a perpetual enchantment, and a poor girl, very humble, and very modest, who rides in the omnibus, and who makes her dresses herself." A contemptuous smile contracted Mlle. Cesarine's lips. "Why not?" she interrupted. "Men have such funny tastes!"
I approved Césarine's choice; and I was particularly glad she had pronounced for an hotel, where all is plain sailing, instead of advising a furnished villa, the arrangements for which would naturally have fallen in large part upon the shoulders of the wretched secretary. As in any case I have to do three hours' work a day, I feel that such additions to my normal burden may well be spared me.
"Who is it?" Amelia asked. We expected him to answer, "Count von Lebenstein," or "Mr. Granton," or "Medhurst." Instead of that, he replied, to our utter surprise, "That's Césarine's young man, my lady." "Césarine's young man?" Amelia repeated, taken aback. "Oh, Dudley, surely, you must be mistaken!" "No, my lady," Dudley replied, in a tone of conviction.
"What!" he said, "Mlle. Cesarine's nature did change, then?" "In one night. Had she not met the hero of whom every girl dreams? a man of thirty, bearing one of the oldest names in France." She stopped, expecting an answer, a word, an exclamation. But, as M. de Tregars said nothing, "Did you never notice any thing then?" she asked. "Nothing."
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