half awake.

It was the noise of the great invention which had turned the tranquil
group of villas and cherry orchards into a rendezvous for the singular
admixture of artilleries and scientific luminaries. The peaceful villa
entertained a selection of them nightly and it is astonishing how
heartily the military men ate and the professors drank, for the
enthusiasm had turned all heads.

Hedwig entered the fine old drawing-room where the symposium had been
held. It was a capacious room, not unlike an English baronial hall, the
doorways and windows were furnished with old Gobelin tapestry and the
heavy furniture was of mahogany, imported when France drew generously on
her colonies. The long table had been roughly cleared after supper by
the summary process of bundling all the plates up in the cloth. On it
had been replaced, for the final debate, drawings and models of the guns
considered absolute after the novel Clemenceau Cannon. On a
pedestal-pillar stood a large clock, representing, with figures at the
base, the forge of Vulcan; his Cyclops had hammered off six strokes a
little preceding the servant's entrance.

"A quarter past six," she said, yawning. "It will soon be light."

She drew the curtains and pulled the cord which caused the shade to roll
itself up in each of the three tall windows, before returning to the
table where she had left her now useless lamp. With a half-terrified
look, she began to arrange the pretty little cannon, exquisitely modeled
in nickel and bronze, and miniature shot, shell, chain-shot, etc., which
she handled with a curiosity rather instinctive than studied. In the
midst of her mechanically executed work, she was startled by a gentle
rapping on the plate-glass of a window. The sight of a face in the grey
morning glimmer startled her still more, but, luckily, she recognized
it. After hesitation, she crossed the room in surprise and unbolted the
two sashes, which opened like double doors.

"Hedwig!" said a woman's voice warily speaking, "open to me!"

The girl held the sashes widely apart, muttering:

"The mistress! why the mischief has she come back when we were getting
on so nicely."

But, letting the new-comer pass her, she tried to smoothe her face, and
don the smile as stereotyped in servants as in ballet-dancers, while she
continued the letting in of the daylight to gain time to recover her
countenance.

Cesarine threw off a cloak, trimmed with fur, and more suitable for a
c