? But there must be one some day, I suppose."

We had strolled as far as St. Paul's and had now returned as far as
Trinity. The graves along the north transept of the ruined church were
green and starred with wild flowers, and we turned into the churchyard,
walking very slowly side by side.

"Elsin," I began.

"Ah! the gentleman has found his tongue," she exclaimed softly. "Speak,
Sir Frippon; thy Sacharissa listens."

"I have only this to ask. Dance with me once to-night, will you?--nay,
twice, Elsin?"

She seated herself upon a green mound and looked up at me from under
her chip hat. "I have not at all made up my mind," she said. "Captain
Butler is to be there. He may claim every dance that Sir Henry does not
claim."

"Have you seen him?" I asked sullenly.

"Mercy, yes! He came at noon while you and Sir Peter were gambling away
your guineas at the Coq d'Or."

"He waited upon _you_?"

"He waited on Lady Coleville. I was there."

"Were you not surprised to see him in New York?"

"Not very"--she considered me with a far-away smile--"not very greatly
nor very--agreeably surprised. I have told you his sentiments regarding
me."

"I can not understand," I said, "what you see in him to fascinate you."

"Nor I," she replied so angrily that she startled me. "I thought to-day
when I met him, Oh, dear! Now I'm to be harrowed with melancholy and
passion, when I was having such an agreeable time! But, Carus, even
while I pouted I felt the subtle charm of that very sadness, the
strange, compelling influence of those melancholy eyes." She sighed and
plucked a late violet, drawing the stem slowly between her white teeth
and staring at the ruined church.

After a while I said: "Do you regret that you are so soon to leave us?"

"Regret it?" She looked at me thoughtfully. "Carus," she said, "you are
wonderfully attractive to me. I wish you had acquired that air of
gentle melancholy--that poet's pallor which becomes a noble
sadness--and I might love you, if you asked me."

"I'm sad enough at your going," I said lightly.

"Truly, are you sorry? And when I am gone will you forget la belle
Canadienne? Ah, monsieur, l'amitie est une chose si rare, que,
n'eut-elle dure qu'un jour, on doit en respecter jusqu'au souvenir."

"It is not I who shall forget to respect it, madam, jusqu'au souvenir."

"Nor I, mon ami. Had I not known that love is at best a painful
pleasure I might have mistaken my happiness with you for somethi