t.

"Then you knew the painter, as I did?" he said in astonishment.

"Not as YOU did," responded Helen. She drew nearer the picture, and,
pointing a slim finger to the canvas, said:--

"Do you see that small window with the mignonette?"

"Perfectly."

"That was MY room. His was opposite. He told me so when I first saw the
sketch. I am the girl you speak of, for he knew no other, and I believe
him to have been a truthful, honorable man."

"But what were you doing there? Surely you are joking?" said Sir James,
with a forced smile.

"I was a poor pupil at the Conservatoire, and lived where I could afford
to live."

"Alone?"

"Alone."

"And the man was"--

"Major Ostrander was my friend. I even think I have a better right to
call him that than you had."

Sir James coughed slightly and grasped the lapel of his coat. "Of
course; I dare say; I had no idea of this, don't you know, when I
spoke." He looked around him as if to evade a scene. "Ah! suppose we
ask the duchess to look at the sketch; I don't think she's seen it." He
began to move in the direction of the library.

"She had better wait," said Helen quietly.

"For what?"

"Until"--hesitated Helen smilingly.

"Until? I am afraid I don't understand," said Sir James stiffly,
coloring with a slight suspicion.

"Until you have APOLOGIZED."

"Of course," said Sir James, with a half-hysteric laugh. "I do. You
understand I only repeated a story that was told me, and had no idea of
connecting YOU with it. I beg your pardon, I'm sure. I er--er--in fact,"
he added suddenly, the embarrassed smile fading from his face as he
looked at her fixedly, "I remember now it must have been the concierge
of the house, or the opposite one, who told me. He said it was a Russian
who carried off that young girl. Of course it was some made-up story."

"I left Paris with the duchess," said Helen quietly, "before the war."

"Of course. And she knows all about your friendship with this man."

"I don't think she does. I haven't told her. Why should I?" returned
Helen, raising her clear eyes to his.

"Really, I don't know," stammered Sir James. "But here she is. Of course
if you prefer it, I won't say anything of this to her."

Helen gave him her first glance of genuine emotion; it happened,
however, to be scorn.

"How odd!" she said, as the duchess leisurely approached them, her glass
still in her eye. "Sir James, quite unconsciously, has just been showing
me a sketch of