What time will your drive be ?" They fixed the time, and as soon as breakfast was finished, Maurice went back to his room.

He tore up the letters he had written last night, and wrote others announcing his return home, took them to the post himself, and then walked about in sheer inability to keep still, until it should be time to go to Mrs.Costello's.
He made a tolerably long round, choosing always the noisiest, busiest streets, and came back to the hotel just as his cousin drove away.

He followed her carriage, and passed it as it stood at Mrs.Costello's door, went on to the barrier, and coming back, found that it had disappeared.

Now, therefore, probably Mrs.Costello was gone, and now, if ever, was his opportunity.
When Claudine opened the door for "ce beau monsieur" she was aghast.

He was positively "beau" no longer.