re! In such concord between man and man,
there is more entente cordiale between England and France than there was
at Sebastopol. Now let me compare the handwritings."

"The box that contained the letters is not here--I left it at
Rochebriant; I will telegraph to my aunt to send it; the day after
to-morrow it will no doubt arrive. Breakfast with me that day--say at
one o'clock, and after breakfast the Box!"

"How can I thank you?"

"Thank me! but you said your honour was concerned in your
request--requests affecting honour between men comma il faut is a
ceremony of course, like a bow between them. One bows, the other returns
the bow--no thanks on either side. Now that we have done with that
matter, let me say that I thought your wish for our interview originated
in a very different cause."

"What could that be?"

"Nay, do you not recollect that last talk between us, when with such
loyalty you spoke to me about Mademoiselle Cicogna, and supposing that
there might be rivalship between us, retracted all that you might have
before said to warn me against fostering the sentiment with which she
had inspired me; even at the first slight glance of a face which cannot
be lightly forgotten by those who have once seen it."

"I recollect perfectly every word of that talk, Marquis," answered
Graham, calmly, but with his hand concealed within his vest and pressed
tightly to his heart. The warning of Mrs. Morley flashed upon him. "Was
this the man to seize the prize he had put aside--this man, younger than
himself--handsomer than himself--higher in rank?"

"I recollect that talk, Marquis! Well, what then?"

"In my self-conceit I supposed that you might have heard how much I
admired Mademoiselle Cicogna--how, having not long since met her at the
house of Duplessis (who by the way writes me word that I shall meet you
chez lui tomorrow), I have since sought her society wherever there was a
chance to find it. You may have heard, at our club, or elsewhere, how I
adore her genius--how, I say, that nothing so Breton--that is, so
pure and so lofty--has appeared and won readers since the days of
Chateaubriand,--and--you, knowing that les absents ont toujours tort,
come to me and ask Monsieur de Rochebriant, Are we rivals? I expected a
challenge--you relieve my mind--you abandon the field to me?"

At the first I warned the reader how improved from his old mauvaise
honte a year or so of Paris life would make our beau Marquis. How a year