ow which
would be the proper title. It was nearly vesper-time with the old
nobleman; he seemed but a procrastinating presence in the evening of
mortal life; a chateau and carriage--

"Then we will meet again," said the marquis, interrupting these
new-born ambitions.

"In that case you would soon get tired of me," laughed Susan.

"Never!" Tenderly. "When may I see you?"

"How importunate you are! Call when you will."

"But if you are out"--he insisted.

"That will make it the more delightfully uncertain," she said gaily.

"So it will!" Rubbing his hands. "Delightfully uncertain!" he
repeated. And he departed with many protestations, taking no more
notice of the thick-set man than if he were a block of wood.

"What an old ape!" growled the latter, viciously, as the marquis
ambled from their stall.

"Do you think so?" answered Susan, tossing her head. "He has that air
of distinction which only persons of rank and title can command."

"Distinction!" said the other, who was but a well-to-do merchant. "I
should call it bad manners."

"Because he never noticed you!" laughed Susan, spitefully. "But why
are we standing here? I believe you expect to take me home, don't
you?"

Although she chattered like a magpie on the road, he was silent and
sullen, nursing his injured pride and wounded self-sufficiency. Susan,
who was interested in him for the novel reason she disliked him so
heartily, parted from him with the air of a duchess, and entered the
hotel, holding her head so high that he swore under his breath as he
drove away. And, as a result of the quarrel with the lad, he would
probably have to risk being "pinked" for this jade! Susan, on the
other hand, was as happy as a lark when she entered the dining-room of
the St. Charles, that great eating-place and meeting-place of all
classes of people.

As she seated herself at a table, a smile lurked around the corners of
her mouth and flickered faintly upon the waiter who forthwith became a
Mercury for expedition and a prodigal for variety. Her quarrel on the
road with her companion had in nowise interfered with that appetite
which the fresh air and the lateness of the hour had provoked, nor
were her thoughts of a character to deter from the zest of eating.

From the present to the past was but an instant's flight of the
mind--thus may the once august years swiftly and unceremoniously be
marshaled by!--and she dwelt in not unpleasing retrospection on an
endless fie