Chapter Two ‘Our French friends are beginning to form quite a little coterie,’ remarked Gerald, covertly studying the group gathered in an alcove at the other side of Lady Bicknacre’s ballroom. ‘I am sorry to hear of your misfortunes. We came on here at once. " And, as he spoke, he took up a sheet of paper, and hastily traced a few lines upon it. Have you ever heard the name of Meysey Hill?” “Meysey Hill?” He repeated it after her, and she knew at once from his tone and his quick glance into her face that the name possessed some significance for him. Gerald reached out a hand to stop her. ‘But Gérard—if you mean the fellow Alderley who was making eyes at Yolande—is not here. "How goes it?" he began, heartily. " So saying, he left the room. America, the land of rosy apples and snowstorms, beckoned, and she wanted to fly thitherward. Every home is a little recess, a niche, out of the world of business and competition, in which women and the future shelter.
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