to be
sick--our old family physician, you know," to Miss Arthur; "and _so_
skillful. He has been in Europe a year. The dear man, how I long to
see him!"

"Well!" laughed Lucian, "I will carry him any amount of affection,
providing it is not too bulky. I find that I must run up to the city
to-morrow, and of course will look him up."

"Oh!" eagerly, "and find out if he saw the D'Arcys in Paris; and those
delightful Trevanions!" Then, regretfully, "can't you stay another
week, dear?"

"Out of the question, Co., much as I regret it," glancing expressively
at Miss Arthur. "But I shan't forget you all."

"Pray do not," simpered the spinster. "And when do you return?"

"Not for two or three weeks, I fear. But rest assured I shall lose no
time, when once I am at liberty."

During his lazy, good-humored moments, Mr. Davlin had made most
ridiculous love to Miss Arthur, and that lady had not been behind in
doing her part. Now, strange to say, the face which she bent over her
napkin wore upon it a look, not of sorrow, but of relief. And why?

CHAPTER XIV.

WHEELS WITHIN WHEELS.

"Take especial care with my toilet this morning, Celine," drawled Miss
Arthur, as she sat before a mirror in her luxuriously appointed
dressing-room.

Wise Cora had seen the propriety of giving to this unwelcome
sister-in-law with the heavy purse, apartments of the best in the
newly fitted-up portion of the mansion.

"I want you to be _especially_ careful with my hair and complexion,"
Miss Arthur continued.

"Yes, mademoiselle," demurely. Then, as if the information might bear
upon the question of the toilet, "Does mademoiselle know that Monsieur
Davlin left an hour ago?"

"Certainly, Celine, but I expect a visitor. He may arrive at any time
to-day, and you must do your very best with my toilet."

"Mademoiselle _est charmante_; slight need of Celine's poor aid,"
cooed the little hypocrite, and the toilet proceeded.

At length, the resources of art having been exhausted, Miss Arthur
stood up, and approved of Celine's handiwork.

"I really do look nicely, Celine; you have done well, very. Now go
send me a pot of chocolate and a bit of toast."

"Yes, mademoiselle."

"And a bit of chicken, or a bird's wing."

"Oui."

"And a French roll, Celine, with perhaps an omelette."

"Pardonne, mademoiselle, but might I suggest we must not forget this,"
touching Miss Arthur's tightly laced waist.

"True, Celine, quite right; the toast