served with more sympathy.

"If you would not think me presuming--if you would not deem it an
offense--you remind me of one I loved and lost--it is so long ago
since I felt her kiss for the last time--I am so near the grave--"

With tears in her eyes, she bent her head and her fresh young lips
just touched his withered brow.

"Good-by," she said. "I am so sorry for you!" And she was gone,
leaving him sitting there motionless as though life had departed.

A rattling cab that clattered noisily past the cabildo and calaboza,
and swung around the square, aroused the marquis. He arose, stopped
the driver, and entered the rickety vehicle.

"The law office of Marks and Culver," said the marquis.

The man lashed his horse and the attenuated quadruped flew like a
winged Pegasus, soon drawing up before the attorneys' office.
Fortunately Culver was in, and, although averse to business on any
day--thinking more of his court-yard and his fountain than of his law
books--this botanist-solicitor made shift to comply with the marquis'
instructions and reluctantly earned a modest fee. He even refused to
express surprise at my lord's story; one wife in London, another in
Paris; why, many a southern gentleman had two families--quadroons
being plentiful, why not? Culver unobtrusively yawned, and, with fine
courtesy, bowed the marquis out.

Slowly the latter retraced his steps to his home; his feet were heavy
as lead; his smile was forced; he glanced frequently over his
shoulder, possessed by a strange fantasy.

"I think I will lie down a little," he said to his valet. "In this
easy chair; that will do. I am feeling well; only tired. How that mass
is repeated in my mind! That is because it is Palestrina, Francois;
not because it is a vehicle to salvation, employed by the gibbering
priests. Never let your heart rule your head, boy. Don't mistake
anything for reality. 'What have you seen in your travels?' was asked
of Sage Evemere. 'Follies!' was the reply. 'Follies, follies
everywhere!' We never live; we are always in the expectation of
living."

He made an effort to smile which was little more than a grimace.

"A cigar, Francois!"

"My lord, are you well?--"

The marquis flew into a rage and the valet placed an imported weed in
his master's hand.

"A light, Francois!"

The valet obeyed. For a moment the strong cigar seemed to soothe the
old man, although his hand shook like an aspen as he held it.

"Now, bring me my Volta