amazed me, 'you are once
more my dear de Valmont of last night. I dreamed of you, I assure you
I did, and now to find you in the morning, oh, so changed!' She
clasped her little hands and inclined her head, while the sweet voice
sank into a cadence of melancholy which seemed so genuine that the
mocking ripple of a laugh immediately following was almost a shock to
me. Where had this creature of the dull English countryside learnt all
such frou-frou of gesture and tone?

'Have you ever seen Sarah Bernhardt?' I asked.

Now the average English woman would have inquired the genesis of so
inconsequent a question, but Lady Alicia followed the trend of my
thought, and answered at once as if my query had been quite
expected:--

'_Mais non_, monsieur. Sarah the Divine! Ah, she comes with my million
a year and the house of Hyde Park. No, the only inhabitant of my real
world whom I have yet seen is Monsieur Valmont, and he, alas! I find
so changeable. But now, adieu frivolity, we must be serious,' and she
walked sedately by my side.

'Do you know where you are going, monsieur? You are going to church.
Oh, do not look frightened, not to a service. I am decorating the
church with holly, and you shall help me and get thorns in your poor
fingers.'

The private road, which up to this time had passed through a forest,
now reached a secluded glade in which stood a very small, but
exquisite, church, evidently centuries older than the mansion we had
left. Beyond it were gray stone ruins, which Lady Alicia pointed out
to me as remnants of the original mansion that had been built in the
reign of the second Henry. The church, it was thought, formed the
private chapel to the hall, and it had been kept in repair by the
various lords of the manor.

'Now hearken to the power of the poor, and learn how they may flout
the proud marquis,' cried Lady Alicia gleefully; 'the poorest man in
England may walk along this private road on Sunday to the church, and
the proud marquis is powerless to prevent him. Of course, if the poor
man prolongs his walk then is he in danger from the law of trespass.
On weekdays, however, this is the most secluded spot on the estate,
and I regret to say that my lordly uncle does not trouble it even on
Sundays. I fear we are a degenerate race, Monsieur Valmont, for
doubtless a fighting and deeply religious ancestor of mine built this
church, and to think that when the useful masons cemented those stones
together, Mada