After all these frolics she would resume her expression of a listless queen.  Beneath the charm of the life and prestige of this brilliant nature, Monsieur de Lucan readily forgave Julia the caprices and peculiarities of which she was lavishly prodigal, especially toward her step-father.  She showed herself generally with him what she had been at the start; friendly and polite, with a shade of haughty irony; but she had strong inequalities of temper.  Lucan surprised sometimes her gaze riveted upon him with a painful and almost fierce expression.  One day she repelled with sullen rudeness the hand he offered to assist her in alighting from her horse or in climbing over a fence.  She seemed to avoid every occasion of finding herself alone with him, and when she could not escape a tete-a-tete of a few moments, she manifested either restless irritation or mocking impertinence.  Lucan fancied she reproached herself sometimes with belying too much her former sentiments, and that she thought she owed it to herself to give them from time to time a token of fidelity.  He was grateful to her, however, for reserving for himself alone these equivocal manifestations, and for not troubling her mother with them.  Upon the whole he attached but a slight importance to these symptoms.  If there still was in the affectionate manifestations of his step-daughter something of a struggle and an effort, it was on the part of that haughty nature an excusable feature, a last resistance, which he flattered himself soon to remove by multiplying his delicate attentions toward her.

Some two weeks after Julia’s arrival, there was a ball given by the Marchioness de Boisfresnay, in her chateau of Boisfresnay, which is situated two or three miles from Vastville.  Monsieur and Madame de Lucan were on pleasant visiting-terms with the marchioness.  They went to that ball with Julia and her husband, the gentlemen in the coupe, the ladies, on account of their dresses, occupying the carriage alone.  Toward midnight, Clotilde took her husband aside, and pointing to her daughter, who was waltzing in the adjoining parlor with a naval officer: 

“Hush! my dear,” she said; “I have a frightful headache, and Pierre is fairly bored to death; but we have not the courage to take Julia away so early.  Do you wish to make yourself very agreeable?  You’ll bring her home, and we will start now, Pierre and myself; we’ll leave you the carriage.”

“Very well, dear,” said Lucan, “run off, then.”

Clotilde and Monsieur de Moras slipped away at once.

A moment later Julia, cleaving her way scornfully through the throng that parted before her as before an angel of light, raised her superb brow and made a sign to Lucan.

“I don’t see mother,” she said.