"Here we are," said Savrola at length, as the brougham drew up at the entrance of his house. He opened the carriage-door; Moret jumped off the box and rang the bell. After a pause the old housekeeper opened the door. Savrola called to her. "Ah, Bettine, I am glad you are up. Here is my niece, who has been to the meeting to hear me speak and has been jostled by the crowd. I shall not let her go home alone to-night. Have you a bedroom ready?"
"There is the spare room on the first floor," answered the old woman; "but I fear that would never do."
"Why not?" asked Savrola quickly.
"Because the sheets for the big bed are not aired, and since the chimney was swept there has been no fire there."
"Oh, well, you must try and do what you can. Good-night, Moret. Will you send the carriage back as soon as you have done with it? I have some notes to send to THE RISING TIDE office about the articles for to-morrow morning. Don't forget,—as quickly as you can, for I am tired out."
"Good-night," said Moret. "You have made the finest speech of your life. Nothing can stop us while we have you to lead the way."
He got into the carriage and drove off. Savrola and Lucile ascended the stairs to the sitting-room, while the housekeeper bustled off to make preparations for the airing of sheets and pillow-cases. Lucile looked round the room with interest and curiosity. "I am in the heart of the enemy's camp now," she said.
"You will be in many hearts during your life," said Savrola, "whether you remain a queen or not."
"You are still determined to drive us out?"
"You heard what I said to-night."