No more—no more! she was to be a prisoner now till she was to be decked out with garlands, and sent like a lamb to the sacrifice, and served up with mint sauce, for Sir Grantley was going to be very rich. Life was becoming an empty void with nothing to fill it. No Charley Melton allowed to visit; no assistant to arrange her hair—and Monsieur Hector Launay’s aide was so very, very nice.
Maude’s sad musings were interrupted by the door being opened quickly, and the head of Justine thrust in.
“Oh, mademoiselle—chère miladi, have you heard?”
“Yes, Justine. It is all over.”
“All ovaire, miladi? c’est atroce, but not ovaire; I will take counsel wiz M’sieu Hector, and all will be well.”
“Justine! Justine!”
“Coming, milady; I descend directly. Have a good heart, still yet, and all shall be well. Oui, milady, I come.”
Justine descended, and Maude melted into tears.