"
"It was very lucky for me," said Horace. "I am delighted to be
here. The hotel seems to be very empty," he added. "I have
seen nobody this morning except one little girl."
"But no, the hotel is almost full--people are gone to mass,
perhaps, or are in bed, or are breakfasting. It is still
early."
"That little girl," said Horace--"does she belong to the
house?"
"You mean the little girl who ran against me as I came up to
you just now? No, the _proprietaire_ of the hotel has but one
daughter, Mademoiselle Cecile, a most amiable person. But I
know that child--her father is one of the _habitues_ of the
hotel. She is much to be pitied, poor little one!"
"Why?" asked Graham.
"Because her father--_ah! bon jour, Madame_--excuse me, Monsieur,
but I go to pay my respects to Madame la Comtesse!" cried the
Belgian, as an elderly red-faced lady, with fuzzy sandy hair,
wearing a dingy, many-flounced lilac barege gown, came towards
them along the gravel path.
"At last we see you back, my dear Monsieur!" she cried--"ah!
how many regrets your absence has caused!--of what an
insupportable _ennui_ have we not been the victims! But you are
looking better than when you left us; your journey has done
you good; it is plain that you have not suffered from
absence.
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