had seldom seen. I took it that poor old Peter
had not seen Jacques Haret during the time he had spent in Gaston's
rooms. Madame Riano opened the action by saying sternly:

"What are you doing here, Jacques Haret?"

"Come to pay my respects to your ladyship," was Jacques Haret's
undaunted reply. "Think you, Madame, that I could remain long in Paris
and fail to pay you my devoirs?"

Madame Riano, giving no attention to this speech, scrutinized Jacques
Haret, and then said abruptly:

"How comes it that you are so well dressed? I know those clothes are
not your own, for I know all about your way of life, Jacques Haret."

Gaston Cheverny looked a little uncomfortable at this. For all of
Madame Riano's sharpness, she had not recognized the clothes as
belonging to Gaston. Jacques Haret, however, replied with a grin:

"I borrowed them, Madame, when I was last in Brabant from your
old friend, the Bishop of Louvain. The old gentleman kept this
costume for occasions when he goes to Brussels _incog._ and
plays Harun-al-Rashid."

Madame Riano chose to be highly offended at this levity.

"How dare you, Jacques Haret, say such things about a man of God!"

"A man of God do you call him, Madame? Who was it, I should be glad to
know, that sent word to the bishop unless he stopped preaching
directly at a certain lady she would tweak his ears for him the next
time she met him?"

This staggered Madame Riano, for she had once actually sent such a
message to the bishop, who had the prudence to desist from his
fulminations against her. But like a crafty general, Madame Riano was
able to collect her scattered forces, after an onslaught, and still
make trouble for her adversary.

"I do not know to what you allude, and I should still like to know
where you got those clothes."

"Madame," began Gaston, in great confusion, but Jacques Haret was not
a whit confused and took the words out of Gaston's mouth:

"From the wardrobe of Gaston Cheverny just half an hour ago."

Madame Riano looked a trifle abashed, but rallied when Jacques Haret
said impudently, taking out meanwhile a snuff-box of Gaston's,

"And I put on all my finer feelings with these clothes. I have become
a gentleman once more; but if you object to them--the clothes, I
mean--I will take them off, every rag of them, here on the spot. The
prospect doesn't alarm you, does it? You, Madame, a representative of
the Kirkpatricks, ought not to be frightened by a little thing