tions. Consider that..."

"I consider, monsieur, that you presume upon the kindness I have always
shown you. You abuse the position of toleration in which you stand. Who
are you? What are you, that you should have the insolence to take this
tone with me?"

He bowed, instantly his cold, detached self again, and resumed the
mockery that was his natural habit.

"My congratulations, mademoiselle, upon the readiness with which you
begin to adapt yourself to the great role you are to play."

"Do you adapt yourself also, monsieur," she retorted angrily, and turned
her shoulder to him.

"To be as the dust beneath the haughty feet of Madame la Marquise. I
hope I shall know my place in future."

The phrase arrested her. She turned to him again, and he perceived that
her eyes were shining now suspiciously. In an instant the mockery in him
was quenched in contrition.

"Lord, what a beast I am, Aline!" he cried, as he advanced. "Forgive me
if you can."

Almost had she turned to sue forgiveness from him. But his contrition
removed the need.

"I'll try," said she, "provided that you undertake not to offend again."

"But I shall," said he. "I am like that. I will fight to save you, from
yourself if need be, whether you forgive me or not."

They were standing so, confronting each other a little breathlessly, a
little defiantly, when the others issued from the porch.

First came the Marquis of La Tour d'Azyr, Count of Solz, Knight of the
Orders of the Holy Ghost and Saint Louis, and Brigadier in the armies
of the King. He was a tall, graceful man, upright and soldierly of
carriage, with his head disdainfully set upon his shoulders. He was
magnificently dressed in a full-skirted coat of mulberry velvet that was
laced with gold. His waistcoat, of velvet too, was of a golden
apricot colour; his breeches and stockings were of black silk, and his
lacquered, red-heeled shoes were buckled in diamonds. His powdered hair
was tied behind in a broad ribbon of watered silk; he carried a little
three-cornered hat under his arm, and a gold-hilted slender dress-sword
hung at his side.

Considering him now in complete detachment, observing the magnificence
of him, the elegance of his movements, the great air, blending in so
extraordinary a manner disdain and graciousness, Andre-Louis trembled
for Aline. Here was a practised, irresistible wooer, whose bonnes
fortunes were become a by-word, a man who had hitherto been the despair
of dowag