Still, New Orleans had built up its romance, and gossiped
accordingly.

"Have you heard the news?" whispered Lola to Annette, leaning
from her box at the opera one night. The curtain had just gone
up on "Herodias," and for some reason or other, the audience
applauded with more warmth than usual. There was a noticeable
number of good-humoured, benignant smiles on the faces of the
applauders.

"No," answered Annette, breathlessly,--"no, indeed, Lola; I am
going to Paris next week. I am so delighted I can't stop to
think."

"Yes, that is excellent," said Lola, "but all New Orleans is
smiling at the romance. Monsieur LeConte and Madame Dubeau were
quietly married last night, but it leaked out this afternoon.
See all the applause she's receiving!"

Annette leaned back in her chair, very white and still. Her box
was empty after the first act, and a quiet little tired voice
that was almost too faint to be heard in the carriage on the way
home, said--

"Papa, I don't think I care to go to Paris, after all."



M'SIEU FORTIER'S VIOLIN