When she rejoined her companions, Dr. Meredith had already risen and was stuffing various letters and papers into his pockets with a view to departure.
"Going?" said Lord Lackington. "You shall see the last of me, too, Mademoiselle Julie."
And he stood up. But she, flushing, looked at him with a wistful smile.
"Won't you stay a few minutes? You promised to advise me about Thérèse's drawings."
"By all means."
Lord Lackington sat down again. The lame child, it appeared, had some artistic talent, which Miss Le Breton wished to cultivate. Meredith suddenly found his coat and hat, and, with a queer look at Julie, departed in a hurry.
"Thérèse, darling," said Julie, "will you go up-stairs, please, and fetch me that book from my room that has your little drawings inside it?"
The child limped away on her errand. In spite of her lameness she moved with wonderful lightness and swiftness, and she was back again quickly with a calf-bound book in her hand.
"Léonie!" said Julie, in a low voice, to Madame Bornier.
The little woman looked up startled, nodded, rolled up her knitting in a moment, and was gone.