It was virtually their real good-bye; for though Mrs. Crichton ran in and out half-a-dozen times during the few remaining days of their stay at Hivèritz, she was never accompanied by her brother. He called the last evening, but most of the half-hour of his visit he spent in the pasteur’s study, only looking into the salon for five minutes on his way out, to bid a hasty farewell to madame, and to thank her for her kindness and hospitality. And he said no more to Cicely about seeing her when she returned to England.
So their paths separated again. Edmond Guildford went back to his work in crowded, busy London—Cicely went up to spend the long sweet summer days among the beautiful Pyrenees. But both often wished the winter back again.
[CHAPTER X.]
AMIEL TO THE FORE.
“Hero. I will do any modest office, my lord, to help her to a good husband.”
Much Ado About Nothing.
“WHO was that gentleman that bowed to you just now, Cicely? No; over there, near the door—don’t you see him?”
“I didn’t notice him. I don’t see any one that I ever saw before in my life, as far as I know,” replied the girl of whom the question was asked, glancing indifferently round. “Are you not rather tired, Amiel? Come and sit down for a little; there are some empty chairs.”
“I’m not tired. I think you get tired more quickly than I. But it will be nice to sit down, I dare say. I am rather tired of the pictures. Let us look at the people a little instead. That is always amusing, particularly in a small room like this, where one can keep the same groups in sight. There, Cicely, look now, there he is again, over in the corner beside that horrible martyr picture. Quick, or you will lose sight of him. He is a handsome man, whoever he is. He is turning our way.”
Lady Forrester seemed quite excited.