ular slow-coach. Society gets on his nerves. He's
as sober as a judge," said Germaine.

"He's as gay as a lark," said Sonia, in sudden protest.

Germaine pouted at her, and said: "Oh, he's gay enough when he's making
fun of people. But apart from that he's as sober as a judge."

"Your father must be delighted with the change," said Jeanne.

"Naturally he's delighted. Why, he's lunching at Rennes to-day with the
Minister, with the sole object of getting Jacques decorated."

"Well; the Legion of Honour is a fine thing to have," said Marie.

"My dear! The Legion of Honour is all very well for middle-class
people, but it's quite out of place for a duke!" cried Germaine.

Alfred came in, bearing the tea-tray, and set it on a little table near
that at which Sonia was sitting.

Germaine, who was feeling too important to sit still, was walking up
and down the room. Suddenly she stopped short, and pointing to a silver
statuette which stood on the piano, she said, "What's this? Why is this
statuette here?"

"Why, when we came in, it was on the cabinet, in its usual place," said
Sonia in some astonishment.

"Did you come into the hall while we were out in the garden, Alfred?"
said Germaine to the footman.

"No, miss," said Alfred.

"But some one must have come into it," Germaine persisted.

"I've not heard any one. I was in my pantry," said Alfred.

"It's very odd," said Germaine.

"It is odd," said Sonia. "Statuettes don't move about of themselves."

All of them stared at the statuette as if they expected it to move
again forthwith, under their very eyes. Then Alfred put it back in its
usual place on one of the cabinets, and went out of the room.

Sonia poured out the tea; and over it they babbled about the coming
marriage, the frocks they would wear at it, and the presents Germaine
had already received. That reminded her to ask Sonia if any one had yet
telephoned from her father's house in Paris; and Sonia said that no one
had.

"That's very annoying," said Germaine. "It shows that nobody has sent
me a present to-day."

Pouting, she shrugged her shoulders with an air of a spoiled child,
which sat but poorly on a well-developed young woman of twenty-three.

"It's Sunday. The shops don't deliver things on Sunday," said Sonia
gently.

But Germaine still pouted like a spoiled child.

"Isn't your beautiful Duke coming to have tea with us?" said Jeanne a
little anxiously.

"Oh, yes; I'm expecting him at ha