Arsène Lupin | Page 5

many miles away. He won't be back for another hour."
"And the Duke--he's not back from his ride yet, is he?"
"Not yet, miss," said Alfred, turning to go.
"One moment," said Sonia. "Have all of you got your things packed for
the journey to Paris? You will have to start soon, you know. Are all the
maids ready?"
"Well, all the men are ready, I know, miss. But about the maids, miss, I
can't say. They've been bustling about all day; but it takes them longer
than it does us."
"Tell them to hurry up; and be as quick as you can with the tea, please,"
said Sonia.
Alfred went out of the room; Sonia went back to the writing-table. She
did not take up her pen; she took up one of the wedding-cards; and her
lips moved slowly as she read it in a pondering depression.
The petulant, imperious voice broke in upon her musing.
"Whatever are you doing, Sonia? Aren't you getting on with those
letters?" it cried angrily; and Germaine Gournay-Martin came through
the long window into the hall.
The heiress to the Gournay-Martin millions carried her tennis racquet
in her hand; and her rosy cheeks were flushed redder than ever by the
game. She was a pretty girl in a striking, high- coloured, rather obvious
way--the very foil to Sonia's delicate beauty. Her lips were a little too
thin, her eyes too shallow; and together they gave her a rather hard air,
in strongest contrast to the gentle, sympathetic face of Sonia.

The two friends with whom Germaine had been playing tennis
followed her into the hall: Jeanne Gautier, tall, sallow, dark, with a
somewhat malicious air; Marie Bullier, short, round, commonplace,
and sentimental.
They came to the table at which Sonia was at work; and pointing to the
pile of envelopes, Marie said, "Are these all wedding-cards?"
"Yes; and we've only got to the letter V," said Germaine, frowning at
Sonia.
"Princesse de Vernan--Duchesse de
Vauvieuse--Marquess--Marchioness? You've invited the whole
Faubourg Saint-Germain," said Marie, shuffling the pile of envelopes
with an envious air.
"You'll know very few people at your wedding," said Jeanne, with a
spiteful little giggle.
"I beg your pardon, my dear," said Germaine boastfully. "Madame de
Relzieres, my fiance's cousin, gave an At Home the other day in my
honour. At it she introduced half Paris to me--the Paris I'm destined to
know, the Paris you'll see in my drawing-rooms."
"But we shall no longer be fit friends for you when you're the Duchess
of Charmerace," said Jeanne.
"Why?" said Germaine; and then she added quickly, "Above everything,
Sonia, don't forget Veauleglise, 33, University Street--33, University
Street."
"Veauleglise--33, University Street," said Sonia, taking a fresh
envelope, and beginning to address it.
"Wait--wait! don't close the envelope. I'm wondering whether
Veauleglise ought to have a cross, a double cross, or a triple cross,"
said Germaine, with an air of extreme importance.

"What's that?" cried Marie and Jeanne together.
"A single cross means an invitation to the church, a double cross an
invitation to the marriage and the wedding-breakfast, and the triple
cross means an invitation to the marriage, the breakfast, and the signing
of the marriage-contract. What do you think the Duchess of Veauleglise
ought to have?"
"Don't ask me. I haven't the honour of knowing that great lady," cried
Jeanne.
"Nor I," said Marie.
"Nor I," said Germaine. "But I have here the visiting-list of the late
Duchess of Charmerace, Jacques' mother. The two duchesses were on
excellent terms. Besides the Duchess of Veauleglise is rather worn-out,
but greatly admired for her piety. She goes to early service three times
a week."
"Then put three crosses," said Jeanne.
"I shouldn't," said Marie quickly. "In your place, my dear, I shouldn't
risk a slip. I should ask my fiance's advice. He knows this world."
"Oh, goodness--my fiance! He doesn't care a rap about this kind of
thing. He has changed so in the last seven years. Seven years ago he
took nothing seriously. Why, he set off on an expedition to the South
Pole--just to show off. Oh, in those days he was truly a duke."
"And to-day?" said Jeanne.
"Oh, to-day he's a regular slow-coach. Society gets on his nerves. He's
as sober as a judge," said Germaine.
"He's as gay as a lark," said Sonia, in sudden protest.
Germaine pouted at her, and said: "Oh, he's gay enough when he's
making fun of people. But apart from that he's as sober as a judge."

"Your father must be delighted with the change," said Jeanne.
"Naturally he's delighted. Why, he's lunching at Rennes to-day with the
Minister, with the sole object of getting Jacques decorated."
"Well; the Legion of Honour is a fine thing to have," said Marie.
"My dear! The Legion of Honour