his arm, and together they wandered to a corner of palms
where he seated her and brought her cool wine jelly and other
confections. She thanked him sweetly, and, drooping, she rested her
head upon her hand and her arm on the arm of her chair.

"So dull they are, these fetes, and the people--bah! They are dull to
the point of despair."

She was a dream of gold and white as she sat there--the red-gold hair
and the red-brown eyes, and the soft gold and white draperies, too
clinging, as the little gypsy had indicated, but beautiful as a gold
and white lily. He sat beside her and gazed on her dreamily, but in a
manner too detached. She was not pleased, and she sighed.

"Take the refreshment, mademoiselle; you will feel better. I will
bring you wine. What will you have?"

"Oh, you men, who always think that to eat and drink something alone
can refresh! Have you never a sadness?"

"Very often, mademoiselle."

"Then what do you do?"

"I eat and drink, mademoiselle. Try it."

"Oh, you strange man from the cold north! You make me shiver. Touch my
hand. See? You have made me cold."

"Cold? You are a flame from the crown of gold on your head to your
shoes of gold."

"Now that you are become a success, monsieur, what will you do? To you
is given the heart's desire." She toyed with the quivering jelly,
merely tasting it. It too was golden in hue, and golden lights danced
in the heart of it.

"A great success? I am dreaming. It is so new to me that I do not
believe it."

"You are very clever, monsieur. You never tell your thoughts. I asked
if you remembered me and you answered in a riddle. I knew you did
not, for you never saw me before."

"Did I never see you dance?"

"Ah, there you are again! To see me dance--in a great audience--one of
many? That does not count. You but pretended."

He leaned forward, looking steadily in her eyes. "Did I but pretend
when I said I never could forget you? Ah, mademoiselle, you are too
modest."

She was maddened that she could not pique him to a more ardent manner,
but gave no sign by so much as the quiver of an eyelid. She only
turned her profile toward him indifferently. He noticed the piquant
line of her lips and chin and throat, and the golden tones of her
delicate skin.

"Did I not also tell you the truth when you asked me? And you rewarded
me by calling me banal."

"And I was right. You, who are so clever, could think of something
better to say." She gave him a quick gl