"Tell me what has happened? Tell me what has happened?" she asked in
distress.
Fleda took both her hands. "Before I answer, tell me what has happened
here," she said breathlessly. "What news?"
Madame Bulteel's face lighted. "Good news," she exclaimed eagerly.
"He will see--he will see again?" Fleda asked in great agitation.
"The Montreal doctor said that the chances were even," answered Madame
Bulteel. "This man from the States says it is a sure thing."
With a murmur Fleda sank into a chair, and a faintness came over her.
"That's not like a Romany," remarked old Rhodo. "No, it's certainly not
like a Romany," remarked Madame Bulteel meaningly.
CHAPTER XXIII
THE RETURN OF BELISARIUS
Grey days in the prairie country do not come very often, but they are
very depressing when they arrive. The landscape is not of the luscious
kind; it has no close correspondence with a picture by Corot or
Constable; sunlight is needed to give it the touch of the habitable and
the homelike. It was, therefore, unfortunate for the spirits of the
Lebanon people that the meeting summoned by local agitators to discuss
with asperity affairs on both sides of the Sagalac should, while starting
with fitful sunlight in the early morning, have developed to a bleak
greyness by three o'clock in the afternoon, the time set for the meeting.
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