"Try and be ours again at Christmas," de Vesey was saying to Vaura.
"Without fail" said another "our city is glorious at the birth-day of the Christ."
"And la belle Vernon should not fail to lend us her beauty at that time," said Eau Clair, thinking as did the others that her rare loveliness in the white light was as of an angel.
"She goes with the golden summer," said a southerner.
"The beauteous birds go south in your company, Mile. Vernon, may they sing sweet songs for you as they wing their flight," echoed a poet.
"I love the birds as I do your sunny climes, and as we journey, should I hear their sweet notes, shall remember your words," she said softly, her syren voice full of music, as with a last hand-clasp and wave of handkerchief the guard shut the door and the fire horse dashed on his way and from gay Paris.
CHAPTER XXIV.
SLAIN BY A WOMAN.
Our travellers having a carriage to themselves made each other as comfortable as it is possible for human nature of to-day to be, accustomed to the cushion, footstool, and lounge of life.
"Farewell, once more, charming Paris," said Lady Esmondet, "was there no England with its loved associations and many friends, then would I live my life in thee."