"Don't you think we had
better be going back to the hotel now? It is getting quite
late."
"And when your fortune is made, may I come and live with you?"
said Madelon, without moving.
"We shall see about that afterwards," he answered, smiling,
"there is time enough to think about it, you may be sure.
Come, Madelon, we must be going."
"Ah, you do not know, and I will not tell you," said Madelon,
jumping up as she spoke.
"What do I not know?" asked Graham, taking her hand in his, as
they walked off together.
"What I will do--it is my secret, but you will see--yes, you
will see, I promise you that."
She almost danced with glee as she walked along at Graham's
side. He did not understand what she was talking about; he had
missed the first sentence that might have given him the clue,
and merely supposed that it was some childish mystery with
which she was amusing herself.
But Madelon understood full well, and her busy little brain
was full of plans and projects as she walked along. Make a
fortune! how many fortunes had she not seen made in a day--in
an hour! "Give me only ten francs, _et je ferai fortune!_" The
old speech that she had quoted years ago to Horace Graham--
though, indeed, she had no remembrance of having done so--was
familiar to her now as then.
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