"She must have been mistaken," mused Glynn, as he went on to his own quarters. "Deering could not endure the companionship of such a man as Vincent, and what object could he have in following a girl like Elsie Lambert? She is a sensitive, timid soul, more so than I imagined, yet there are possibilities of heroism in her. A most delightful companion, with fresh discoveries of sheltered nooks and mossy dells of character at every step in our acquaintance. I will not leave Paris until I see her safe under her father's wing again; then, if I have an ounce of common sense left, I will fly!"
Reaching his own room, he found among others a letter from Lady Gethin, asking the real reason of his prolonged stay in Paris. Having a spare half-hour he replied at once:
"I am trying to put the pieces of a puzzle together; I am not sure I shall succeed, but am going to give myself a few days longer, then I shall come and report proceedings. I wonder what solution you will suggest. Till we meet then, I can say no more on the subject. Have you seen the Deerings? Are they both in London? I assure you I long to bring my doubts and suspicions to the test of your experience and acumen.
"Ever your devoted Nephew,
"Hugh Glynn."
[CHAPTER III.]
OLD SCORES.
Madame Davilliers' was a very pleasant household. Of course it had not the ease and freedom that reigns in an English home, at least for young people. Antoinette and her friend were treated with the kind of affectionate indulgence suited to infants of tender years, but watched also and guarded with the care due to creatures of the same immature age.
To Lambert and his daughter madame extended a wide indulgence,—"Americans, you know," in an explanatory tone, was always her comment on any eccentricity of theirs. She was exceedingly anxious to settle Elsie judiciously, as she felt convinced she would have a goodly dower, and deeply regretted that she had not a son old enough to demand the charming mademoiselle in marriage. Lambert, however, showed himself reluctant to accept any of her suggestions, and she therefore concluded that he had other plans in view.
Elsie Lambert was very happy with Antoinette. They practiced duets together, and traced patterns, and Elsie read aloud to her friend when she was at work, or repeated to her the stories and poems she had lately read in English, on Glynn's recommendation. Elsie was the master spirit of the two, though Antoinette was by far the bravest and most self-possessed in society.
But amid her contentment Elsie was conscious of an extraordinary want—a void which nothing sufficed to fill; it was the want of those quiet conversations with Glynn, each of which awoke new ideas, new aspirations, new life. He called as he had promised, and was received most graciously by Madame Davilliers in her salon. Both girls were present. Glynn, however, knew well he must not speak more than a few civil words to them, and even his inquiries for Lambert he felt bound to utter in French. But Elsie's expressive eyes told him much. They said frankly and innocently, "I wish I could talk to you. I wish I dare speak as usual. This is all rather tiresome." And he longed unutterably to take her out for a long ramble in the bois, her arm through his own, her sweet candid face uplifted to his, that she might the better comprehend the meaning of his words; but he must not think of such things. He ought to be thankful, especially thankful, that her feelings towards him were so calm and friendly. If he were to read anything of tenderness, of passion, in those lovely blue eyes of hers, why, chaos would be come again! For to call Lambert father-in-law would be chaotic!