"Yes, indeed, Lionel," said Lady Esmondet; "you need have no fear of
banishment on his account."
"Thank you," he said, receiving and giving to both a warm hand-clasp.
"Depend upon it, if Mars has any battles to fight for you, he will not
put to shame his name; and now we leave you to woo the god of
slumber."
CHAPTER XVI.
LIFTING THE VAIL.
The following morn the sun arose and smiled his greeting on gay
Paris--methinks Old Sol weeps, when clouds come between his beams and
the gayest of cities. Lady Esmondet and Vaura enjoyed their drive
through the beautiful boulevards out into the suburbs, and to one of
the largest public conservatories; the gardens were a scene of
enchanting loveliness, laid out in the perfection of artistic taste;
the friends roamed whither their will led, revelling in the perfumed
air and beauty of colouring.
"Here," said Vaura, "one could be content to sing, 'I'd be a
butterfly,' all day long."
"Yes, but only, _ma chere_, for a summer day."
"I am afraid you are right, godmother mine, and that when winter with
the gay season came on the boards of life, I should prove faithless
and sing, Oh, for the sights and the sounds of the season for me!"
"But we cannot linger longer, Vaura; we must go to the office and
leave our order.
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