nged and matured, the girl--for she had been
no more in those old days--sunk in this worldly woman with the air of
calm dignity and complete self-possession. Yet, he insisted, he must
have known her anywhere again.

Aline embraced her affectionately, and then answering the questioning
glance with faintly raised eyebrows that madame was directing towards
Aline's companion--

"This is Andre-Louis," she said. "You remember Andre-Louis, madame?"

Madame checked. Andre-Louis saw the surprise ripple over her face,
taking with it some of her colour, leaving her for a moment breathless.

And then the voice--the well-remembered rich, musical voice--richer and
deeper now than of yore, repeated his name:

"Andre-Louis!"

Her manner of uttering it suggested that it awakened memories, memories
perhaps of the departed youth with which it was associated. And she
paused a long moment, considering him, a little wide-eyed, what time he
bowed before her.

"But of course I remember him," she said at last, and came towards
him, putting out her hand. He kissed it dutifully, submissively,
instinctively. "And this is what you have grown into?" She appraised
him, and he flushed with pride at the satisfaction in her tone. He
seemed to have gone back sixteen years, and to be again the little
Breton lad at Gavrillac. She turned to Aline. "How mistaken Quintin was
in his assumptions. He was pleased to see him again, was he not?"

"So pleased, madame, that he has shown me the door," said Andre-Louis.

"Ah!" She frowned, conning him still with those dark, wistful eyes of
hers. "We must change that, Aline. He is of course very angry with
you. But it is not the way to make converts. I will plead for you,
Andre-Louis. I am a good advocate."

He thanked her and took his leave.

"I leave my case in your hands with gratitude. My homage, madame."

And so it happened that in spite of his godfather's forbidding reception
of him, the fragment of a song was on his lips as his yellow chaise
whirled him back to Paris and the Rue du Hasard. That meeting with Mme.
de Plougastel had enheartened him; her promise to plead his case in
alliance with Aline gave him assurance that all would be well.

That he was justified of this was proved when on the following Thursday
towards noon his academy was invaded by M. de Kercadiou. Gilles, the
boy, brought him word of it, and breaking off at once the lesson upon
which he was engaged, he pulled off his mask, and