"No, I do not think we shall be here, tomorrow, shall we, madame?"
she said reluctantly.

"Of course not," said madame briskly. "You have not forgotten what
we have planned? No, we shall not be here tomorrow; but the night
after--yes."

Celia turned back again to Wethermill.

"Yes, we have plans for tomorrow," she said, with a very wistful
note of regret in her voice; and seeing that madame was already at
the door, she bent forward and said timidly, "But the night after
I shall want you."

"I shall thank you for wanting me," Wethermill rejoined; and the
girl tore her hand away and ran up the steps.

Harry Wethermill returned to the rooms. Mr. Ricardo did not follow
him. He was too busy with the little problem which had been
presented to him that night. What could that girl, he asked
himself, have in common with the raddled woman she addressed so
respectfully? Indeed, there had been a note of more than respect
in her voice. There had been something of affection. Again Mr.
Ricardo found himself wondering in what street in Bohemia Celia
dwelt--and as he walked up to the hotel there came yet other
questions to amuse him.

"Why," he asked, "could neither Celia nor madame come to the Villa
des Fleurs tomorrow night? What are the plans they have made? And