nterview, and the manager, overcome by the honor of such a visit,
responded with alacrity. The customary formalities over, the nobleman
congratulated Barnes on the performance and led the conversation to
the young actress.

"Pardon my curiosity," he said, with apparent carelessness, "but I'm
sure I remember an actress of the same name in London--many years
ago?"

"Her mother, undoubtedly," replied the manager, proudly.

"She was married, was she not, to--"

"A scoundrel who took her for his wife in one church and repudiated
the ties through another denomination!"

"Ah, a French-English marriage!" said the marquis, blandly. "An old
device! But what was this lover's name?"

"This husband's, my lord!"

"Lover or husband, I fancy it is all the same to her now," sneered the
caller. "She has passed the point where reputation matters."

"Her reputation is my concern, Monsieur le Marquis!"

"You knew her?" asked the nobleman, as though the conversation wearied
him. "And she was faithful to his memory? No scandals--none of those
little affairs women of her class are prone to? There"--as Barnes
started up indignantly--"spare me your reproaches! I'm too feeble to
quarrel. Besides, what is it to me? I was only curious about her--that
is all! But she never spoke the name of her husband?"

"Not even to her own child!"

"She does not know her father's name?" repeated the marquis. "But I
thank you; Mademoiselle Constance is so charming I must needs call to
ask if she were related to the London actress! Good-day, Monsieur! You
are severe on the lover. Was it not the fashion of the day for the
actresses to take lovers, or for the fops to have an opera girl or a
comedienne? Did your most popular performers disdain such diversions?"
he sneered. "_Pardie_, the world has suddenly become moral! A
gentleman can no longer, it would seem, indulge in gentlemanly
follies."

Mumbling about the decadence of fashion, the marquis departed, his
manner so strange the manager gazed after him in surprise.

With no thought of direction, his lips moving, talking to himself in
adynamic fashion, the nobleman walked mechanically on until he reached
the great cathedral. The organ was rolling and voices arose sweet as
those of seraphim. He hesitated at the portal and then laughed to
himself. "Well has Voltaire said: 'Pleasure has its time; so, too, has
wisdom. Make love in thy youth, and in old age, attend to thy
salvation.'" He repeated the lat