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sed and touched by these demonstrations, and it was not long before she was chatting naturally and merrily with a jolly little group to whom her father had laughingly introduced her as "the convalescent." "Do you see that young man coming toward us?" said Evelyn, nodding in the direction of a tall, spare young fellow, who, with his shock of black hair, long, aquiline nose, and sensitive, thin-lipped mouth, looked decidedly temperamental, even to the most casual observer. Lucile nodded. "What about him?" she asked. "He's a Frenchman," adding, with a mysterious shake of her head, "Thereby hangs a tale." Much to Lucile's secret annoyance, the young man at her right claimed her attention at that important moment, asking her, inanely, or so she thought, if she could swim. It was not until an hour later, when most of the passengers had drifted off to different, and often more secluded, parts of the deck, and only three or four remained with them, that Lucile had an opportunity to question her friend. "I hate mysteries, Evelyn," she whispered. "What did you mean by 'thereby hangs a tale'? Explain yourself." "I can't just now," answered Evelyn. "He might hear us. Anyway, I don't know very much to tell. He would probably explain for himself if only those old stick-plasters would go away and tend to their own affairs," and she glared belligerently at the three unconscious gentlemen and young Monsieur Charloix, the Frenchman. "No chance--they're glued!" said Jessie, gloomily, and Lucile looked from one to the other of them despairingly. "I wish I knew what you were getting at," she sighed. "Mademoiselle has been very seek?" the voice was low, caressing, with the slightest suggestion of a foreign accent. Lucile turned her head and found herself looking into the bright, restless eyes of the mysterious stranger. For the first moment she was startled and a little confused, but the next instant, recovering herself, she answered, gravely, "Yes, I have been rather under the weather for a couple of days," and she added, with her bright smile, "The thing that bothers me most is the thought of what I have missed during that time." "Mademoiselle is brave," he smiled back. "Most would think only of their sufferings. However, there are still two good days in which to see everything." "Two days?" sighed Lucile. "It seems to me as if it would take two years to see all I'd like to." "Ah, but it is Mademoiselle's
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