ill permit me, Madame," they heard him say with his strident
little self-satisfied laugh. "A man of affairs is the slave of the
moment. And the affairs of state are never still. A great country
moves even in its sleep."

Having the permission of Madame, he tore open the envelope, enjoying
the importance of the moment. But his face changed as soon as his
glance fell on the paper.

"The government has fallen," he gasped, with white lips and a face
wherefrom the colour faded in blotches. He seemed to forget the
ladies, and looked only at his son. "It may mean--much. I must go to
Paris at once. The place is in an uproar. Mon Dieu--where will it
end!"

He excused himself hurriedly, and in a few minutes his carriage
rattled through the grey stone gateway.

"An uproar in Paris," repeated Lucille, anxiously, when she was alone
with her mother. "What does he mean? Is there any danger? Will papa be
safe?"

"Yes," answered the Vicomtesse quietly; "he will be safe, I think."

Chapter VIII

In Paris

"Le plus grand art d'un habile homme est celui de savior
cacher son habilete."

It will be necessary to dwell to a certain extent on those events of
the great world that left their mark on the obscure lives of which the
present history treats. An old man may be excused for expressing his
opinion--or rather his agreement with the opinions of greater
minds--that our little existence here on earth is but part of a great
scheme--that we are but pawns moved hither and thither on a vast
chess-board, and that, while our vision is often obscured by some
knight or bishop or king, whose neighbourhood overshadows us, yet our
presence may affect the greater moves as certainly as we are affected
by them.

I first became aware of the fact that my existence was amenable to
every political wind that might blow a week or so after Lucille went
to La Pauline, without, indeed, vouchsafing an explanation of her
sudden coldness.

In my study I was one evening smoking, and, I admit it, thinking of
Lucille--thinking very practically, however. For I was reflecting
with satisfaction over some small improvements I had effected--with a
Norfolk energy which, no doubt, gave offence to some--during the short
time that the Vicomte and I had passed in the Provencal chateau. I had
the pleasant conviction that Lucille's health could, at all events,
come to no harm from a residence in one of the oldest castles in
France. No very lover-li