He smiled. "Not dying at all. He needs you; come along. I'll tell you
as we go."
But she hung back. Then he told her all he had seen and heard the
evening before. Without a word further she prepared to go. On the way
he turned to her and said: "You are Madame Lecyr?"
"I am as he left me," she replied timidly, but with a kind of pride, too.
"Don't mistake me," he said. "I thought perhaps you had been married
since."
The Avocat sat in his little office, feebly fumbling among his papers,
as Medallion entered on him and called to him cheerily: "We are coming to
see you to-night, Garon--the Cure, our Little Chemist, and the Seigneur;
coming to supper."
The Avocat put out his hand courteously; but he said in a shrinking,
pained voice: "No, no, not to-night, Medallion. I would wish no visitors
this night--of all."
Medallion stooped over him, and caught him by both arms gently. "We
shall see," he said. "It is the anniversary," he whispered.
"Ah, pardon!" said the Avocat, with a reproving pride, and shrank back
as if all his nerves had been laid bare. But Medallion turned, opened
the door, went out, and let in a woman, who came forward and timidly
raised her veil.
"Victor!" Medallion heard, then "Lulie!" and then he shut the door,
and, with supper in his mind, went into the kitchen to see the
housekeeper, who, in this new joy, had her own tragedy--humming to
himself:
"But down there come from the lofty hills
Footsteps and eyes agleam,
Bringing the laughter of yesterday
Into the little house."