new he was pretty certain of finding some
one there with whom he was acquainted; but he was certainly not
prepared for the surprise, which greeted him, when he pushed open the
swing-doors and passed into the smoking-room. Seated in a chair by the
fire, and looking into it in the meditative fashion of a man, who has
dined well and feels disinclined for much exertion, was no less a
person than Maas.

"Mon cher ami," he cried, springing to his feet and holding out his
hand, "this is a delightful surprise. I had no notion you were in
Paris."

"I only arrived this evening," Browne replied. "But I might return the
compliment, for I thought you were in St. Petersburg."

"No such thing," said Maas, shaking his head. "Petersburg at this time
of the year does not agree with my constitution. To be able to
appreciate it one must have Slav blood in one's veins, which I am
discourteous enough to be glad to say I have not. But what brings you
to the gay city? Is it on business or pleasure? But there, I need not
ask. I should have remembered that business does not enter into your
life."

"A false conclusion on your part," said Browne as he lit a cigar. "For
a man who has nothing to do, I have less leisure than many people who
declare they are overworked."

"By the way," Maas continued, "they tell me we have to congratulate you
at last."

"Upon what?" Browne inquired. "What have I done now that the world
should desire to wish me well?"

"I refer to your approaching marriage," said Maas. "Deauville was in
here the other day, _en route_ to Cannes, and he told us that it was
stated in a London paper that you were about to be married. I told him
I felt sure he must be mistaken. If you had been I should probably
have known it."

"It's not true," said Browne angrily. "Deauville should know better
than to attach any credence to such a story."

"Exactly what I told him," said Maas, with his usual imperturbability.
"I said that, at his age, he should know better than to believe every
silly rumour he sees in the press. I assured him that you were worth a
good many married men yet."

As he said this Maas watched Browne's face carefully. What he saw
there must have satisfied him on certain points upon which he was
anxious for information, for he smiled a trifle sardonically, and
immediately changed the conversation by inquiring what Browne intended
doing that night.

"Going home to bed," said Browne promptly. "I ha