In all respects she was the greatest contrast to the Duchess of Saint-Maclou.
"You were about to pass out ?" said I, holding the door.
She bowed; but at the moment another lady--elderly, rather stout, and, to speak it plainly, of homely and unattractive aspect--whom I had not hitherto perceived, called from a table at the other end of the room where she was sitting: "We ought to start early to-morrow." The younger lady turned her head slowly toward the speaker.
"My dear mother," said she, "I never start early.

Besides, this town is interesting--the landlord says so." "But he wishes us to arrive for _djeuner_." "We will take it here.

Perhaps we will drive over in the afternoon--perhaps the next day." And the young lady gazed at her mother with an air of indifference--or rather it seemed to me strangely like one of aversion and defiance.
"My dear!" cried the elder in consternation.

"My dearest Marie!" "It is just as I thought," said I to myself complacently.
Marie Delhasse--for beyond doubt it was she--walked slowly across the room and sat down by her mother.

I took a table nearer the door; the waiter appeared, and I ordered a light supper.