Did Louis mutter something between his teeth? Aloud he only said: “Certainly not. What made you think so? I merely wanted to know if she were going. Good-night.” CHAPTER XVI FAREWELL “If we must part, Then let it be like this; Not heart on heart, Nor with the useless anguish of a kiss; But touch my hand and say: ‘Until to-morrow or some other day, If we must part.’” —ERNEST DOWSON, _A Valediction_. Lucienne lay long in the deep sleep which Madame Gaumont’s swiftly-administered potion had produced. They had carried her into her bedroom, and Madame Gaumont had determined to wait for the time when her charge should wake up. Lucienne’s bed was in shadow, but in the far corner of the room there was a bright patch from a shaded lamp, beside which sat the widow knitting. And because of the click of her needles Lucienne dreamt that she was a child again, under the guardianship of her old nurse, until, startled by some distant sound into completer consciousness, she opened her eyes and, with a little cry of disappointment, raised herself in bed. In a moment the ample figure of Madame Gaumont was bending over her, and before she could ask a question a wine-glass, steadied by Madame Gaumont’s hand, was at her lips, and she was forced to drink its contents to the last drop. “There, my love,” said her hostess, “you’ll soon be well again now, and you mustn’t talk, but just go off to sleep again, and if you want anything, you’ve only to call, and I shall hear.” Lucienne fixed her eyes on the shrewd, kind face, and lay down obediently. She knew where she was now, and although it all seemed very odd, she was too sleepy to ask any questions. If it were not her nurse it was a very good substitute. To the music of the needles she floated back to the shore of dreams. Madame Gaumont, returned to her knitting, had an uneasy feeling that all was not well with the girl. It seemed to her that perhaps there was some other trouble in addition even to the natural grief at parting with her lover and with Madame Elisabeth. “Poor child, poor little soul!” she said to herself; “with no mother, and Monsieur le Marquis, so good, so splendid, no doubt, but perhaps a little overwhelming.” Well, well, she should not lack for creature comforts, for the feeding up of the body went, in Madame Gaumont’s opinion, a long way towards bringing peace to the mind.