At the end of the month the Prince and Princess Gherardini returned to Paris.
As Mr. Hereward had still a few days of leisure left, his host and hostess insisted on his spending those days as their guest in Paris.
Mrs. Downie was easily persuaded to stay as long as Lilith should stay.
The Prince and Princess gave a series of brilliant entertainments at the commencement of the Paris season.
Mr. and Mrs. Tudor Hereward always assisted them in receiving. And the Paris world whispered together:
“So that was the distinguished statesman to whom Madame Wyvil was betrothed—Monsieur Hereward, of the American Legation at the Court of ——.”
Mrs. Downie, in the same black satin dress, trimmed with black Brussels lace and black bugles, with a white point lace cap on her head—all of which had been presented to her by the princess to be worn at her wedding—was always present with the receiving party, dodging a little behind whenever a great dignitary, covered with stars, crosses and orders, or a grande dame blazing with diamonds, approached the circle; yet so thoroughly enjoying the splendid pageant that at length she grew really alarmed as to her spiritual condition, and privately spoke her mind to Lilith, as follows:
“I never was drunk in my life, honey, and I never seed anybody else drunk, but I have read and I hearn a heap about drunk; and I do think, for the last week or so, since the princess have been giving these high parties, and I mixed up into it all, I must feel just like people do when they are crazy drunk. I ain’t myself, honey! I ain’t indeed! I donno what Brother Perkins or Brother More would think if they knew the state I’m in. I don’t indeed! Why, child when I go up into my room and shut the door and begin my prayers with reciting my hymn:
‘Fading, still fading, the last ray is shining,
Father in Heaven, the day is declining—