done? You would go—mon Dieu, you have lied to me!"
With one last effort she smiled away his sudden fear.
"Why, no!" she said through her tears. "Why, no, monsieur! I only miss my friend! Good-by!" And then, to please him, "Bon voyage, mon ami!"
When the carriage was out of sight she went in and cried by the old pianoforte—but not all for sorrow.
"He may come! He may come!" she sobbed over the yellow keys, and the old sounding-board thrilled softly and called back to her with a jangling minor cadence.
Her sobbing quieted to a sigh; beneath her tears her cheeks burned with a soft hot flush. "Maybe he will! Maybe he will!" she whispered, and "I know he will if he can!" while her hands clasped each other tightly, with fingers intertwisted like a girl's. She sat there
