Your friend is looking out of the cabin door. I think we may
congratulate ourselves, madam, on an excellent passage."
Lady Carey disembarked, a complete wreck, leaning on the arm of her
maid, and with a bottle of smelling salts clutched in her hand. She
slept all the way in the train, and only woke up when they were
nearing Paris. She looked at Lucille in astonishment.
"Why, what on earth have you been doing to yourself?" she exclaimed.
"You look disgustingly fit and well."
Lucille laughed softly.
"Why not? I have had a nap, and we are almost at Paris. I only
want a bath and a change of clothes to feel perfectly fresh."
But Lady Carey was suspicious.
"Have you seen any one you know upon the train?" she asked.
Lucille shook her head.
"Not a soul. A little man whom I spoke to on the steamer brought
me some coffee. That is all."
Lady Carey yawned and shook out her skirts. "I suppose I'm getting
old," she said. "I couldn't look as you do with as much on my mind
as you must have, and after traveling all night too."
Lucille laughed.
"After all," she said, "you know that I am a professional optimist,
and I have faith in my luck. I have been thinking matters over
calmly, and, to tell you the truth, I am not in the least alarmed."
Lady Carey looked at her curiously.
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