Mlle. Lucienne’s room was open. He walked in, and, still out of breath from his rapid ascension,
“I am glad to find you in,” he exclaimed. The young girl was busy, arranging upon her bed a dress of very light colored silk, trimmed with ruches and lace, an overdress to match, and a bonnet of wonderful shape, loaded with the most brilliant feathers and flowers.
“You see what brings me here,” she replied. “I came home to dress. At two o’clock the carriage is coming to take me to the bois, where I am to exhibit this costume, certainly the most ridiculous that Van Klopen has yet made me wear.”
A smile flitted upon Maxence’s lips.
“Who knows,” said he, “if this is not the last time you will have to perform this odious task? Ah, my friend! what events have taken place since I last saw you!”
“Fortunate ones?”
“You will judge for yourself.”
He closed the door carefully, and, returning to Mlle. Lucienne,
“Do you know the Marquis de Tregars?” he asked.
“No more than you do. It was yesterday, at the commissary of police, that I first heard his name.”