er Ruff asked.

The man bowed in silence, and took the visitor's hat and overcoat. He
passed along a spacious hall and into a delightfully furnished reception
room, where an old lady with gray hair sat in the midst of a little
circle of men. Peter Ruff stood, for a moment, upon the threshold,
looking around him. She held out her hands.

"It is Monsieur Peter Ruff, is it not? At last, then, I am gratified. I
have wished for so long to see one who has become so famous."

Peter Ruff took her hands in his and raised them gallantly to his lips.

"Madame," he said, "this is a pleasure indeed. At my last visit here,
you were in Italy."

"I grow old," she answered. "I leave Paris but little now. Where one has
lived, one should at least be content to die."

"Madame speaks a philosophy," Peter Ruff answered, "which as yet she has
no need to learn."

The old lady turned to a man who stood upon her right:

"And this from an Englishman!" she exclaimed.

There were others who took Peter Ruff by the hand then. The servants
were handing round coffee in little Sevres cups. On the sideboard was
a choice of liqueurs and bottles of wine. Peter Ruff found himself
hospitably entertained with both small talk and refreshments. But every
now and then his eyes wandered back to where Madame sat in her chair,
her hair as white as snow--beautiful still, in spite of the cruel mouth
and the narrow eyes.

"She is wonderful!" he murmured to a man who stood by his side.

"She is eighty-six," was the answer in a whisper, "and she knows
everything."

As the clock struck two, a tall footman entered the room and wheeled
Madame's chair away. Several of the guests left at the same time. Ruff,
when the door was closed, counted those who remained. As he had imagined
would be the case, he found that there were eight.

A tall, gray-bearded man, who from the first had attached himself to
Ruff, and who seemed to act as a sort of master of ceremonies, now
approached him once more and laid his hand upon his shoulder.

"Mon ami," he said, "we will now discuss, if it pleases you, the little
matter concerning which we took the liberty of asking you to favor us
with a visit."

"What, here?" Peter Ruff asked, in some surprise.

His friend, who had introduced himself as Monsieur de Founcelles,
smiled.

"But why not?" he asked. "Ah, but I think I understand!" he added,
almost immediately. "You are English, Monsieur Peter Ruff, and in some
respects you