The missive was written in French, and evidently by a highly cultured gentleman, and Mollie felt that it would only be courteous to grant the interview so earnestly solicited. She accordingly responded immediately, and named an hour of the following morning for Monsieur Lamonti to call, if the time should be convenient for him.
She was somewhat disappointed that he did not keep the appointment, but the next day, at the specified hour, a magnificent equipage, with coachman and footman in cream-colored liveries, dashed to the door and stopped.
Presently an elderly gentleman, of apparently sixty years, with snow-white hair and beard, his somewhat bowed and attenuated form clad in the finest of garments, alighted. He was a trifle lame, and depended, in a measure, upon a cane which, Mollie observed, had a massive gold head, curiously carved.
Eliza answered his ring and admitted him to the small parlor, then took the visitor's card, bearing the name "M. Jules Lamonti," to her young mistress.
Mollie did not keep her caller waiting, to make any change in her toilet, for she made it a point to be always neatly, if simply, clad; and, entering his presence with perfect composure, greeted him with a charming ease and grace of manner.
She saw at a glance that he was an aristocrat; but that did not disturb her in the least.
He bowed low before her as he responded to her greeting; then, in a voice that was tremulous from deep emotion, he observed in very fair English:
"Mademoiselle Heatherford has laid on me an obligation everlasting. Ah! but my poor heart would have been broken if I the little one had lost."
Mollie, realizing that it would be much easier for him to express himself in his own language, responded in purest of French, disclaiming all thought of obligation, and concluded by inquiring if little Lucille had experienced any ill effects from her accident. The Frenchman was delighted to find that his hostess could converse with him in his mother-tongue, and his face beamed with pleasure.
"You speak French, mademoiselle!" he exclaimed. "Ah! that is delightful! Now we will talk without any difficulty, for I mix your language so badly. No, Lucille was not hurt. She is perfectly well, and as bright as the morning. But, Mon Dieu! I tremble when I think what might have been to-day but for you," he interposed, growing so white that Mollie was startled. "It was very brave, Mademoiselle Heatherford—it was grand! They tell me you went straight in under that powerful, frightened brute to save my precious child. You are a heroine, mademoiselle, and now I have come to ask you what I shall do to prove my everlasting gratitude."