n--a laugh which was as exultantly joyous as it was
high-bred.

"Ah, my name? Oh no, indeed!" (More work for the Recording Angel.)

She turned to her protectress.

"Madame, I know you think we should be going home."

The senior lady replied in amiable speech, but with sleepy eyes, and the
Monk began to lift and unfold a wrapping. As the Cavalier' drew it into
his own possession, and, agreeably to his gesture, the Monk and he sat
down side by side, he said, in a low tone:

"One more laugh before we part."

"A monk cannot laugh for nothing."

"I will pay for it."

"But with nothing to laugh at?" The thought of laughing at nothing made
her laugh a little on the spot.

"We will make something to laugh at," said the Cavalier; "we will unmask
to each other, and when we find each other first cousins, the laugh will
come of itself."

"Ah! we will unmask?--no! I have no cousins. I am certain we are
strangers."

"Then we will laugh to think that I paid for the disappointment."

Much more of this childlike badinage followed, and by and by they came
around again to the same last statement. Another little laugh escaped
from the cowl.

"You will pay? Let us see; how much will you give to the sick and
destitute?"

"To see who it is I am laughing with, I will give whatever you ask."

"Two hundred and fifty dollars, cash, into the hands of the managers!"

"A bargain!"

The Monk laughed, and her chaperon opened her eyes and smiled
apologetically. The Cavalier laughed, too, and said:

"Good! That was the laugh; now the unmasking."

"And you positively will give the money to the managers not later than
to-morrow evening?"

"Not later. It shall be done without fail."

"Well, wait till I put on my wrappings; I must be ready to run."

This delightful nonsense was interrupted by the return of the _Fille a
la Cassette_ and her aged, but sprightly, escort, from a circuit of the
floor. Madame again opened her eyes, and the four prepared to depart.
The Dragoon helped the Monk to fortify herself against the outer air.
She was ready before the others. There was a pause, a low laugh, a
whispered "Now!" She looked upon an unmasked, noble countenance, lifted
her own mask a little, and then a little more; and then shut it quickly
down again upon a face whose beauty was more than even those fascinating
graces had promised which Honore Grandissime had fitly named the
Morning; but it was a face he had never seen before.

"Hus