But--a solution--a plan--a compromise! You
ought to have played for me! You ought to have played for me; and
you ought to have won--have won!"

[Illustration: You ought to have played for me!]

He stood before a woman new to him, one so different from the
grateful and gracious enthusiast he had met all these months that
he could not comprehend the change, could not at once adjust his
confused senses. So miserable was he that suddenly, with one of
her swift changes, she smiled at him, even through her sudden
tears. "No! No!" she exclaimed. "See! Look here!"

She handed him a little sheet of crumpled note paper, inscribed in
a cramped hand, showed him the inscription--"Jeanne Fournier."

"You don't know who that is?" she asked him.

"No, I don't know."

"Why, yes, you do. My maid--my French maid--don't you remember?
She married Hector, the cooper, at St. Genevieve. Now, see, Jeanne
is writing to me again. Don't you see, there's a baby, and it is
named for me--who has none. Good-by, that money!"--she kissed hand
to the air--"Good-by, that idea, that dream of mine! That's of no
consequence. In fact, nothing is of consequence. See, this is the
baby of Jeanne! She has asked me to come. Why, then, should I
delay?"

Whether it were tears or smiles which he saw upon her face Carlisle
never could determine. Whether it were physical unrest or mental
emotion, he did not know, but certainly it was that the letter of
the agent remained upon the table untouched between them while
Josephine St. Auban pressed to her lips the letter from Jeanne, her
maid.

"Why, I have not failed at all!" said she. "Have I not cared for
and brought up this Jeanne, and is there not a baby of Jeanne, a
baby whom she has named for me?"

Carlisle, mute and unnoticed, indeed, as he felt almost forgotten,
was relieved when there came a knock at the door. A messenger
bearing a card entered. She turned toward him gravely, and he
could only read dismissal now. Mute and unhappy, he hurried from
the room. He did not, however, pass from the stage of activity he
had chosen. He later fought for his convictions, and saw
accomplished, before, with so many other brave men, he fell upon
the field of battle--accomplished at vast cost of blood and
tears--that work which he had been inspired to undertake in a more
futile form.

"You may say to this gentleman that I shall join him presently, in
the parlor at the right of the stair," said