And so, robed in fashion's shining armor, Alixe Delavigne counted
the moments, until at four o'clock of the next afternoon her carriage
waited in the bower-decked oval of the marble house. A gloomy frown
settled upon her face, as the impassive Hugh Johnstone approached
her carriage, sun helmet in hand. She scented treachery now! There
were a dozen brilliant young officers longingly gazing at this sweet
apparition in the gloomy gardens. Even General Abercromby strutted
out and displayed himself in the foreground, as Johnstone leaned
over and gravely whispered to the pale-faced beauty:
"My daughter has been sent away from the city for her health! Her
absence is indefinite. I will see you when General Abercromby leaves
here in a week, and explain all. No, not before. It is impossible."
With a sudden motion of her hand to Jules, Alixe Delavigne leaned
back, half fainting, upon her cushions. Her agitated heart was now
beating in a wild tumult of rage and baffled hatred! "Home!" she
cried, and then, as the marble house was lost to view, she harshly
cried: "To Ram Lal's first! To the jewel store!"
There was a brooding death in her eyes when she sternly said to
the merchant: "Send him to me at once! Send Hawke! Go! Waste not
a moment!"
And then she swore an oath of vengeance, which would have made Hugh
Fraser Johnstone shudder, as he sat drinking champagne cup with
his guest.
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