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In the little salon so charmingly furnished, where never before had sorrow or sadness been discussed, Madame de Nailles poured out her complaints to her stepdaughter and insisted upon plans of strict economy, when M. de Cymier's letter was brought in. "Read!" said the Baroness, handing the strange document to Jacqueline, after she had read it through.
We must have crossed the ledge only a moment or two before them. I hastened back to Jacqueline, and encountered her in the passage just where the light and darkness blended, standing with arms stretched out against the wall to steady herself; and in her eyes was that look which tells a man more surely than anything, I think, can, that a woman loves him.
At which point Jacqueline insisted that Modeste should be silent, and answered, resolutely: "I mean never to marry at all." To this Modeste made answer: "That's another of your notions. The worst husband is always better than none; and I know, for I never married." "That's why you talk such nonsense, my poor dear Modeste! You know nothing about it."
Never have I been never shall I be in his eyes more than the baby he remembers playing with her doll." And unconsciously, as Jacqueline said these words, she imitated the careless accent with which she had heard them fall from the lips of the artist. And she would have again to meet him!
"Yes," explained Jacqueline, "he is going to be transferred from the 'Borda' to the 'Jean-Bart' which, by the way, is no longer the 'Jean- Bart', only people call her so because they are used to it. Meantime you see before you "C," the great "C," the famous "C," that is, he is the pupil who stands highest on the roll of the naval school at this moment." There was a vague murmur of applause.
You love me, Paul?" "Always, Jacqueline," I whispered. She put her arms about my neck. "I love you, Paul," she said. "It seems so easy to say it in the dark, and it used to be so hard. And I want to tell you something. I have always remembered a good deal more than you believed. Only it was so dear, that comradeship of ours, that I would not let myself remember anything except that I had you.
"But," continued Giselle, "if he is forced to forget her he may try to expend elsewhere the affection he feels for her; he may trouble the peace of others, while deceiving himself. He might make in the world one of those attachments Do not fail to represent all these dangers to Madame d'Argy when you plead the cause of Jacqueline." "Humph!
Then Giselle began to suspect something, and remarked that nobody was talking that evening, asking, with a half-smile, whether they had been quarrelling. "We did have a little difference," Oscar replied, quietly. "Oh, it did not amount to anything," he said, lighting his cigar; "let us make friends again, won't you?" he added, holding out his hand to Jacqueline.
Paul, I dream of a dead man, and men who hate and are following us. Was there ever a dead man, Paul?" she asked, shuddering. "No, dear Jacqueline," I answered stoutly. "Those dreams are lies." She still looked hopelessly at me, and I knew she was not quite convinced. "Oh, it was not true, Paul?" she asked pleadingly, gathering each word upon each indrawn breath. I placed one arm around her.
"Your entrance," said her cousin, "was not entirely unseen, and here comes one whose head is certainly turned." "Is it?" asked Unity, and hastily closed the prayer book as Fairfax Cary entered the pew behind them. Jacqueline turned and greeted the young man with a smile.
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