ever taken her poverty
for granted. She dressed richly, and that cost money in Paris. He
remembered that she wore a watch which flashed with jewels on the one
occasion when he had seen it for a moment. He wished he had postponed
his explanation for one more day; still, that was something easily
remedied. He would tell her he had thrown over the other girl for her
sake. Like a pang there came to him the remembrance that he did not
know her address, nor even her family name. Still, she would be sure to
visit the little park, and he would haunt it until she came. The
haunting would give additional point to his story of consuming love.
Anyhow, nothing could be done that night.

In the morning he was overjoyed to receive a letter from Yvette, and he
was more than pleased when he read its contents. It asked for one more
meeting behind the church.

"I could not tell you to-day," she wrote, "all I felt. To-morrow you
shall know, if you meet me. Do not fear that I will reproach you. You
will receive this letter in the morning. At twelve o'clock I shall be
waiting for you on the sixth bench on the row south of the fountain--
the sixth bench--the farthest from the church."
"YVETTE."

McLane was overjoyed at his good luck. He felt that he hardly merited
it. He was early at the spot, and sat down on the last bench of the row
facing the fountain. Yvette had not yet arrived, but it was still half
an hour before the time. McLane read the morning paper and waited. At
last the bells all around him chimed the hour of twelve. She had not
come. This was unusual, but always possible. She might not have
succeeded in getting away. The quarter and then the half hour passed
before McLane began to suspect that he had been made the victim of a
practical joke. He dismissed the thought; such a thing was so unlike
her. He walked around the little park, hoping he had mistaken the row
of benches. She was not there. He read the letter again. It was plain
enough--the sixth bench. He counted the benches beginning at the
church. One--two--three--four--five. There were only five benches in
the row.

As he gazed stupidly at the fifth bench a man beside him said--"That is
the bench, sir."

"What do you mean?" cried McLane, turning toward him, astonished at the
remark.

"It was there that the young girl was found dead this morning--
poisoned, they say."

McLane stared at him--and then he said huskily