dance we lost all sense of an audience, and only
drank the intoxication of the music. At first there had been a cold
silence around us, but we infected it with our own sultry spirit and
melted it. 'Bravo!' shouted the Frenchmen, and 'Divine!' said the
ladies, and I took the praise of the women and Madame Angelique the
praise of the men, a fair division, pleasing to us both.

"Monsieur Bigot alone remained aloof from praise, and as we turned once
very close to him--so close that he wilted in the hot draught made by
our wrapt figures--I saw a hard look come into his eyes and a hard
expression cross his coarse mouth. When we finished at last and I had
conducted Madame Angelique to a chair and thanked her, a huzza rang to
the roof, but the Intendant took no part in it. He did, however,
approach me with what others thought to be words of congratulation,
only you shall judge when I repeat them.

"'You dance like the devil himself,' were his words, 'but you had
better not dance again with Madame Angelique or you may find yourself
in the devil's company. We have other uses in Quebec for you than
this, and your native Scottish wisdom will convince you of it without
more ado.'

"Well, the thing was done, the harm or good of it, for one cannot
always act with deliberation, and never, I should say, when Madame
Angelique beckons, for she is a witch incarnate. Rarely is it any use
revising what has been done, and, frankly, I would not have missed that
dance even if it were to have cost me my head. At the moment I am not
sure whether or not it has cost me my heart; temporarily, shall I say,
keeping on the safe side of truth?

"Anyhow, my dear Captain Ian Gordon, you will be made aware by these
greetings, should they reach you in the goodness of time, and the
friend who carries them, that I am having an experience which agrees
with me, and so I sign myself with the more heartiness,

"Your very faithful
"JOCK FARQUHARSON OF INVEREY."

_XVI--The Wooin' O't!_

There are two kinds of people who make a difference in our lives when
they leave us: those we like and who like us, and those we do not like
and who dislike us, for that is one way in which the world wags.

We feel, in the first case, a quick sadness, we dwell on happy
memories, now tinted to a soft melancholy, and we ask ourselves, "Have
we been all to them we could have been, and they the most to us?"

Our feeling in the second case is one of relief, cou