."

But it was I who did not understand when she drew away. "As you will,"
she agreed, and there was pride in her great eyes, but there was a
wound as well. "Yet why," she went on, "should a knowledge of human
tragedy harden a woman? It strengthens a man. But enough. Monsieur,
have you heard--the lady of the miniature is at Montreal?"

I was slow, for I was wondering how I had vexed her. "You never saw
the miniature," I parried. "How can you connect a name with it,
madame?"

She looked at me calmly. I hated her silk gown that shone like a
breastplate between us. She brushed away my evasion.

"It is well known that you carried Madame Bertheau's miniature. You
were an ardent suitor, monsieur."

Yes, I had been an ardent suitor. I remembered it with amaze. My
tongue had not been clogged and middle-aged, in those blithe days, and
yet those days were only two years gone. With this woman even Pierre
had better speech at his command.

"Madame, who told you this?"

"Monsieur, the tale is common property in Paris."

"May I ask who told you, madame?"

"My cousin, monsieur."

"I thought so."

She looked at me fairly, almost sadly, as if she begged to read my
mind. "Monsieur, why should you regret my knowing? It is to your
credit that you admire Madame Bertheau. They tell me that she is a
woman formed for love, beautiful, childlike, untouched by knowledge of
crime or hardship. Monsieur, forgive me. Are you willing---- May I
see the miniature?"

The transition in my thought was so abrupt that I clapped my hand to my
pocket as if it were still there.

"It--I am not carrying the miniature."

"Did--did the Indians take it from you?"

I stepped nearer. "Madame de Montlivet, what right have I to be
carrying another woman's miniature? I shall write the fact of my
marriage to Madame Bertheau, and the matter will be closed. No, the
Indians did not take the miniature. I buried it in the woods."

"Monsieur, that was not necessary!"

"I thought that it was, madame."

She stood with a chair between us. "Monsieur," she said, with her eyes
down, "I wish that I had known. It was not necessary. Did you bury
the miniature when you married me?"

I put the chair aside and stood over her. "No, madame, I did not bury
the miniature the day we were married. Do you remember the night of
the storm, the night when you asked me if I could save you from your
cousin? I rose early the next morning and digged