The dawn was creeping up over the opposite roof and through the open window; the freshness of the March air made me shiver as I hurried into my clothes.

In the morning-room I found Madame de Clericy.
"Mother," Lucille had once said to me, "always rises to the occasion, but the process is not visible." "Come quietly," said Madame, speaking, as indeed was her habit in regard to myself, with a certain kindness and sympathy--"come quietly; for Lucille is asleep.

I have been to see." She took it for granted that she and I should consider Lucille before all else, and the assumption gave me pleasure.

Although she said "Come," she stood aside and allowed me to lead the way.

We naturally went first to the study.