lied. "Here are two petticoats, your ladyship. When I
know which petticoat is which petticoat, your ladyship, I will serve the
dinner."

The tavern-keeper sidled toward the kitchen-door. As he went out, he
muttered, judiciously low: "I wouldn't give a ha'penny for the choice."

"Beggar!" snapped Portsmouth. "Musty place, musty furniture, musty
_garcon_, musty everything!"

She stood aloof in the centre of the room as if fearful lest she might
be contaminated by her surroundings.

Nell approached her respectfully.

"You may like it better after supper, madame," she suggested, mildly. "A
good spread, sparkling wine and most congenial company have cast a halo
o'er more time-begrimed rafters than these."

"Who are you, madame?" inquired the Duchess, haughtily.

"A fellow-passenger on the earth," gently replied Nell, "and a lover of
good company, and--some wine."

"Yes?" said the Duchess, in a way that only a woman can ask and answer a
question with a "yes" and with a look such as only a woman can give
another woman when she asks and answers that little question with a
"yes."

There was a moment's pause.

The Duchess continued: "Perhaps you have seen the cavalier I await."

"Marry, not I," replied Nell, promptly; and she bethought her that she
had kept a pretty sharp lookout for him, too.

"Is this a proper place for a lady to visit?" pompously inquired the
Duchess.

"You raise the first doubt," said Nell quickly.

"Madame!" exclaimed Portsmouth, interrupting her, with fiery
indignation.

"I say, you are the first to question the propriety of the place,"
explained Nell, apologetically, though she delighted inwardly at the
intended shot which she had given her grace.

"I came by appointment," continued the Duchess; "but it seems I was
misled. _Garcon_, my chair!"

The Duchess made a move toward the door, but Nell's words stopped her.

"Be patient, Duchess! He is too gallant to desert you."

"She knows me!" thought Portsmouth. She turned sharply upon the
stranger. "I have not the pleasure of your acquaintance, madame."

"Such is my loss, not yours," replied Nell, suavely.

"Remove your veil," commanded the Duchess; and her eyes flashed through
her own.

"I dare not before the beauty of Versailles," continued Nell, sweetly.
"Remove yours first. Then I may take mine off unseen."

"Do I know you?" suspiciously inquired Portsmouth.

"I fear not," said Nell, meekly, and she courtesied low. "I am but a