"Ay, and still more, I shall see Raoul, who attends upon M.
le Prince," added Montalais, maliciously.

"Poor Raoul!" sighed Louise.

"Now is the time to write to him, my pretty dear! Come,
begin again, with that famous `Monsieur Raoul' which figures
at the top of the poor torn sheet."

She then held the pen toward her, and with a charming smile
encouraged her hand, which quickly traced the words she
named.

"What next?" asked the younger of the two girls.

"Why, now write what you think, Louise," replied Montalais.

"Are you quite sure I think of anything?"

"You think of somebody, and that amounts to the same thing,
or rather even more."

"Do you think so, Montalais?"

"Louise, Louise, your blue eyes are as deep as the sea I saw
at Boulogne last year! No, no, I mistake -- the sea is
perfidious: your eyes are as deep as the azure yonder --
look! -- over our heads!"