The Vicomte accompanied me to the top of the stairs, and there made sure that the servants were awaiting my departure in the hall.
"To-morrow morning," he said, with a friendly touch on my arm, "you shall have my answer."
With this news then I returned to my comfortable quarters in John Turner's appartement in the Avenue d'Antan. I found that great banker about to partake of luncheon, which was served to him at midday, after the fashion of the country of his adoption. During my walk across the river and through the gardens of the Tuileries--at that time at the height of their splendour--I had not reflected very deeply on the matter in hand. I had thought more of Mademoiselle de Clericy's bright eyes than aught else.
"Good morning," said my host, whom I had not seen before going out. "Wh
