Victor satisfied them on this point when he appeared the next morning. Yes, he had seen Mlle. Lowndes, a charming young lady. He liked blue eyes. He made the last remark with a sly glance at Lucie.
“I suppose that is because you have blue eyes yourself,” she retorted.
“Perhaps. I do not know,” he returned serenely.
“And I suppose you let her into the secret.”
“It was what your father asked that I should do. He did not wish her to concern herself about your affairs any longer than was necessary. He knew that she would go to any amount of pains to relieve your situation, but happily she turned all this over to me, your humble Victor.”
“Humble!” scoffed Lucie, and Victor laughed.
The meal at the Restaurant Honoré, while not quite so great a success as before, was merrier. Odette was of the party and was so excited that she sparkled and bubbled over with fun, matching Victor’s saucy speeches with wittier ones, till Lucie felt herself quite cast in the shade. She was glad that Odette was having so good a time, but she was rather aggrieved that she was not placed more to the fore. She was still brooding over the secret, and more than once was far away in thought while Odette and Victor chatted and made merry. She was not sorry to leave Paris, but this going to the unknown was not in the manner of an ordinary undertaking and she wondered what the new life would be like.
She was so silent on the way home that Victor, too, became grave and asked her very seriously: “What is the matter, Lucie? Are you really so angry with me?”
She shook her head and sighed.
“Then what is it? Are you sorry to be leaving Paris, or have I said something to hurt your feelings? I like blue eyes, of course, but I really like brown ones better.” And then Lucie laughed.