"I do not know. Until some business connected with my father's will shall be arranged, I think. We are there on sufferance only. My cousin, Louis, the present baron, wrote from Algiers, very kindly asking us to occupy the Hotel de la Motte at any time when business or pleasure should call us to Paris. The house was the home of my childhood, and I prefer to live in it as long as I may. The duke, though he would rather live at the 'Trois Freres,' yields to my whim, and so we occupy the Hotel de la Motte, but I do not know for how long a time."
"Until you leave Paris, I presume?"
"Yes, probably," answered Valerie, as with another kiss, she took leave of her kind friend.
"Shall I ever see her sweet face, hear her sweet voice again?" murmured the young duchess, as she passed out to her carriage.
"You posted my letter?" she inquired of the footman who opened the carriage-door.
"Yes, your grace."
"That will do. Home."
The footman repeated the order to the coachman, who drove back to the Hotel de la Motte.
As Valerie entered her morning-room after laying off her bonnet and wrappings, she found the Duke of Hereward there, reading the papers.
He arose and placed a chair for her, saying kindly: