An open barouche, decked with parasols, appeared at the summit of a hill; Lucan saw a head leaning and a handkerchief waving outside the carriage; he urged at once his horse to a gallop. Almost at the same instant the carriage stopped, and a young woman jumped lightly upon the road; she turned around to address a few words to her traveling-companions, and advanced alone toward Lucan. Not wishing to be outdone in politeness, he alighted also, handed his horse to the groom who followed him, and started with cheerful alacrity in the direction of the young woman, whom he did not recognize, but who was evidently Julia. She was coming toward him without haste, with a sliding walk, rocking gently her flexible figure. As she drew near, she threw off her vail with a rapid motion of her hand, and Lucan was enabled to find again upon that youthful face, in those large and slightly clouded eyes, and the pure and stretching arch of the eyebrows, some features of the child he had known.
When Julia's glance met that of Lucan, her pale complexion became suffused with a purple blush.
He bowed very low to her, and with a smile full of affectionate grace:
"Welcome!" he said.
"Thank you, sir," said Julia, in a voice whose grave and melodious suavity struck Lucan; "friends, are we not?" And she held out both her hands to him with charming resolution.
He drew her gently to himself to kiss her; but thinking that he felt a slight resistance in the suddenly stiffening arms of his step-daughter, he contented himself with kissing her wrist just above her glove. Then affecting to look at her with a polite admiration, which, however, was perfectly sincere:
"I really feel," he said, laughingly, "like asking you to whom I have the honor of speaking."
"You find me grown?" she said, showing her dazzling teeth.
"Surprisingly so," said Lucan; "most surprisingly. I understand Pierre perfectly now."
"Poor Pierre!" said Julia; "he is so fond of you. Don't let us keep him waiting any longer, if you please."