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 perfectly well. To his companion, of course, fresh from Avranches, in Normandy, all liveries in Paris must have been equally strange. Nevertheless he followed close behind his leader, who pushed authoritatively through the crowd, and demanded what was the matter. The officer of Musketeers, seeing his own captain, fell back from the carriage-door, and Cerise, with her eyes full of tears, found a face she had never forgotten staring in at the window scarcely six inches from her own.

They recognised each other in an instant. For the first sentence it was even "George!" and "Cerise!" Though, of course, it cooled down to "Monsieur" and "Mademoiselle" as they talked on. She was very little altered, he thought, only taller and much more beautiful; while for her, it was the same brave brown face and kind eyes that she had known by heart since she was a child, only braver, browner, kinder, nobler, just as she had expected. It was wonderful she could see it so distinctly, with her looks cast down on the pretty gloved hands in her lap.

The affair did not take long. "You can pass them by my orders, Adolphe," said his captain; and ere the savage stallion had time for a second attack, the huge vehicle rolled through and lumbered on, leaving handsome Adolphe ejaculating protestations and excuses, believing implicitly that he had won the beautiful mademoiselle's affections at first sight during the process.

Except by this voluble young gentleman, very little had been said. People do say very little when they mean a great deal. It seemed to George, mademoiselle had offered no more pertinent remark than that "She had made a long journey, and was going to the Hôtel Montmirail to stop." Whilst Cerise—well, I have no doubt Cerise could have repeated every word of their conversation, yet she did nothing of the kind neither to Celandine then, nor to mamma afterwards; though by the time she reached home her eyes were quite dry, and no wonder, considering the fire in her cheeks. Altogether, the interview was certainly provocative of silence. Neither Captain George nor Beaudésir uttered a syllable during the remainder of their walk. Only on the threshold of the tailor's shop in the Rue des Quatres