admires
Roddy. Yes, I must tell her about the Lieutenant--oh, beg pardon, the
Captain," and she smiled in her natural way. "Of course she must hear of
his promotion. Poor Roddy! How proud he was of it. And he seemed to
cling to me closer afterwards, as if he meant that I should share half
of the honour."

After detailing that circumstance, she added a few words about Carleton
and Bouchette, and wound up by expressing the regret, which was sincere
with her, that Zulma had not been present at the festival. She wrote:

"Captain Bouchette was kind enough to name some one whom you know as the
belle of the ball. That was flattery, of course. But had some one whom I
know been there, not only M. Bouchette, but the Governor himself and all
the company, not excepting Roderick, would have acclaimed her queen."

This was not an idle compliment from one girl to another. It was a
courtly tribute from woman to woman. Clearly, Pauline was making rapid
progress.

The letter was immediately folded and addressed. Holding it in her hand,
as she rose from the table, Pauline felt wonderfully refreshed. She
glanced through the window, on her way down stairs, and a new horizon
spread before her. Her misgivings for the time had departed, her doubts
were dispelled, and all that remained was a certain buoyant hopefulness,
which she could not explain.

She met her father below and inquired after Batoche.

"He is not here, my dear, but may return to-night."

"I have a letter for him."

"A letter for Batoche?"

"That is, a letter which I would wish him to carry?"

"For whom?"

"For Zulma Sarpy."

"Oh, that is very well. Write to Zulma. Cultivate her friendship. She is
a grand girl."

Batoche did call again at M. Belmont's that night, but it was only for a
moment, as he was about to betake himself once more out of the town. He
accepted Pauline's commission with alacrity.

"I will deliver the letter myself," he said. "I am glad of the chance to
see that magnificent creature again."

X.

ON THE CITADEL.

The next day, instead of experiencing the usual reaction, Pauline
continued in precisely the same state of mind as when she handed the
letter to Batoche. She was not by any means gay. For instance, she could
not have sung a comical song with zest. But she was more than merely
calm. There was a quickening impulse of vague expectancy within her
which led her to move about the house with a light step and a smiling
face. He