over in France had decided that he should. Quite mechanically
Marguerite introduced Demoiselle Candeille to the Prince's gracious
notice.

"If your Highness will permit," she said, "Mademoiselle Candeille will
give us some of her charming old French songs at my rout to-morrow."

"By all means! By all means!" said the Prince. "I used to know some
in my childhood days. Charming and poetic.... I know.... I know.... We
shall be delighted to hear Mademoiselle sing, eh, Blakeney?" he added
good-humouredly, "and for your rout to-morrow will you not also invite
M. Chauvelin?"

"Nay! but that goes without saying, your Royal Highness," responded Sir
Percy, with hospitable alacrity and a most approved bow directed at his
arch-enemy. "We shall expect M. Chauvelin. He and I have not met for so
long, and he shall be made right welcome at Blakeney Manor."

Chapter IX: Demoiselle Candeille

Her origin was of the humblest, for her mother--so it was said--had
been kitchen-maid in the household of the Duc de Marny, but Desiree had
received some kind of education, and though she began life as a dresser
in one of the minor theatres of Paris, she became ultimately one of its
most popular stars.

She was small and dark, dainty in her manner and ways, and with a
graceful little figure, peculiarly supple and sinuous. Her humble
origin certainly did not betray itself in her hands and feet, which were
exquisite in shape and lilliputian in size.

Her hair was soft and glossy, always free from powder, and cunningly
arranged so as to slightly overshadow the upper part of her face.

The chin was small and round, the mouth extraordinarily red, the neck
slender and long. But she was not pretty: so said all the women. Her
skin was rather coarse in texture and darkish in colour, her eyes
were narrow and slightly turned upwards at the corners; no! she was
distinctly not pretty.

Yet she pleased the men! Perhaps because she was so artlessly determined
to please them. The women said that Demoiselle Candeille never left a
man alone until she had succeeded in captivating his fancy if only for
five minutes; an internal in a dance... the time to cross a muddy road.

But for five minutes she was determined to hold any man's complete
attention, and to exact his admiration. And she nearly always succeeded.

Therefore the women hated her. The men were amused. It is extremely
pleasant to have one's admiration compelled, one's attention so
dete