s has posted here to thank the
emperor! The emperor is away with the troops, so he is determined at
least to thank the empress at the assembly to-night."

"Will Madame de Ferrier go to the Tuileries?"

"Assuredly. Fancy how furious my father must be!"

"May I enter?" said the humblest of voices outside the door.

We heard a shuffling step.

Annabel made a face and clenched her hands. The sprite was so harmless I
laughed at her mischief. She brought in Doctor Chantry as she had
brought me, to behold the corbeille; covering her father's folly with
transparent fabrications, which anybody but the literal Briton must have
seen through. He scarcely greeted me at all, folding his hands, pale and
crushed, the sharp tip of his nose standing up more than ever like a
porcelain candle-extinguisher, while I was anxious to have him aside, to
get my money and take my leave.

"See this beautiful corbeille, Doctor Chantry! Doesn't it surprise you
Lazarre should have such taste? We are going this morning to the mayor
of the arrondissement. Nothing is so easy as civil marriage under the
Empire! Of course the religious sacrament in the church of the Capuchins
follows, and celebrating that five minutes before midnight, will make
all Paris talk! Go with us to the mayor, Doctor Chantry!"

"No," he answered, "no!"

"My father joins us there. We have kept Miss Chantry waiting too long.
She will be tired of sitting in the carriage."

Chattering with every breath Annabel entrained us both to the court, my
poor master hobbling after her a victim, and staring at me with hatred
when I tried to get a word in undertone.

I put Annabel into the coach, and Miss Chantry made frigid room for me.

"Hasten yourself, Lazarre," said Mademoiselle de Chaumont.

I looked back at the poor man who was being played with, and she cried
out laughing--

"Did you go to Russia a Parisian to come back a bear?"

I entered her coach, intending to take my leave as soon as I had seen
Count de Chaumont. Annabel chattered all the way about civil marriage,
and directed Miss Chantry to wait for us while we went in to the mayor.
I was perhaps too indifferent to the trick. The usually sharp governess,
undecided and piqued, sat still.

The count was not in the mayor's office. A civil marriage was going
forward, and a strange bridal party looked at us.

"Now, Lazarre," the strategist confided, "your dearest Annabel is going
to cover herself with Parisian disgrace.