thing at all. Audrey accepted his lead.

"And is your Society still alive?" she asked with casual polite disdain.

"Going strong!" said Mr. Cowl. "More flourishing than ever--in spite of our
bad luck." He lifted his sandy-coloured eyebrows. "Of course I'm here on
Society business. In fact, I often have to come to Paris on Society
business." His glance deprecated the appearance of the table over which his
rounded form was protruding.

"Well, I'm glad to have seen you again," said Audrey, holding out her hand.

"I wonder," said Mr. Cowl, drawing some tickets from his pocket. "I wonder
whether you--and your friends--would care to go to a concert to-night at
the Salle Xavier. The concierge at my hotel is giving tickets away, and I
took some--rather to oblige him than anything else. For one never knows
when a concierge may not be useful. I don't suppose it will be anything
great, but it will pass the time, and--er--strangers in Paris----"

"Thank you, Mr. Cowl, but I'm not a stranger in Paris. I live here."

"Oh! I beg your pardon," said Mr. Cowl. "Excuse me. Then you won't take
them? Pity! I hate to see anything wasted."

Audrey was both desolated and infuriated.

"Remember me respectfully to Miss Ingate, please," finished Mr. Cowl. "She
didn't see me as she passed."

He returned the tickets to his pocket.

Outside, Madame Piriac, standing by her automobile, which had rolled up
with the silence of an hallucination, took leave of Audrey.

"_Eh bien! Au revoir!_" said she shortly, with a peculiar challenging
half-smile, which seemed to be saying, "Are you going to be worthy of my
education? Let us hope so."

And Miss Nickall, with her grey hair growing fluffier under a somewhat
rakish hat, said with a smile of sheer intense watchful benevolence:

"Well, good-bye!"

While Nick was ecstatically thanking Mr. Gilman for his hospitality, Tommy
called Audrey aside. Madame Piriac's car had vanished.

"Have you heard about the rehearsal this morning?" she asked, in a
confidential tone, anxious and yet quizzical.

"No! What about it?" Audrey demanded. Various apprehensions were competing
for attention in her brain. The episode of Mr. Cowl had agitated her
considerably. And now she was standing right against the column bearing
Musa's name in those large letters, and other columns up and down the gay,
busy street echoed clear the name. And how unreal it was!... Tickets being
given away in half-dozens!... She ought to ha