y.
"Tell me, mademoiselle, have you any--er--er claims upon M. Delmotte?
Are you betrothed? Any claims of er--er sentiment?"

The girl's eyelids dropped as she answered,

"Not that he is aware of, monsieur." Then her eyes blazed at the sudden
realization of the indignity put upon her. "Who are you, though, and by
what right do you question me? He is an artist and I--I am a friend.
That is all, monsieur."

She had little spirit, after all, for a contest; but a door in her heart
had been opened, a door that a girl generally keeps closed to mankind,
and she naturally resented the intrusion. Look, too, where she would she
could not escape the eyes of encircling masculinity.

Carter, appreciating her embarrassment and feeling an American
gentleman's compassion for her predicament, undertook a divertisement.

"Fine picture, that," he said, loud enough to be heard by the others.
"Those chaps are wearing the Krovitch Lion, too. Coincidence, isn't it?"
Involuntary curiosity called all eyes toward the painting. The effect
was magical. Astonishment showed in every Krovitch face. They, one and
all, uncovered their heads as they recognized in the subject the
unconscious expression of their sovereign's patriotism.

"Is that the work of M. Delmotte?" inquired the Colonel with voice
softened by what he had just seen.

The girl nodded; she was proud of her friend's ability to move these
strangers to reverence.

"Gentlemen--an omen," said the grizzled veteran, pointing to the
picture. "History repeats itself."

"Mademoiselle," Carter said gently under cover of the general buzz of
excited comment aroused by the picture, "mademoiselle, M. Delmotte is
destined to a high place among the great men of the world. While to some
is given the power to portray famous events, to a very few indeed it is
given to create such epochs. Such men are necessarily set apart from
their fellows. Despite the promptings of their hearts, they must forego
many friendships which would otherwise be dear to them. M. Delmotte is
both fortunate and unfortunate in this." As with careful solicitude for
her feelings he strove to prepare her for the separation from the
artist, the girl's color came and went fitfully as gradually the truth
began to dawn upon her.

"I think I understand, monsieur," she said, grateful for his
consideration. Then she continued slowly, deliberately, letting the acid
truth of each word eat out the joy in her heart, "You mean that M.