"M. Gournay-Martin has the honour to inform
you of the marriage of his daughter
Germaine to the Duke of Charmerace."

She wrote steadily on, adding envelope after envelope to the pile
ready for the post, which rose in front of her. But now and again,
when the flushed and laughing girls who were playing lawn-tennis on
the terrace, raised their voices higher than usual as they called
the score, and distracted her attention from her work, her gaze
strayed through the open window and lingered on them wistfully; and
as her eyes came back to her task she sighed with so faint a
wistfulness that she hardly knew she sighed. Then a voice from the
terrace cried, "Sonia! Sonia!"

"Yes. Mlle. Germaine?" answered the writing girl.

"Tea! Order tea, will you?" cried the voice, a petulant voice,
rather harsh to the ear.

"Very well, Mlle. Germaine," said Sonia; and having finished
addressing the envelope under her pen, she laid it on the pile ready
to be posted, and, crossing the room to the old, wide fireplace, she
rang the bell.

She stood by the fireplace a moment, restoring to its place a rose
which had fallen from a vase on the mantelpiece; and her attitude,
as with arms upraised she arranged the flowers, displayed the
delightful line of a slender figure. As she let fall her arms to her
side, a footman entered the room.