d rose, this great alms,
to the poor beggar."

"Never!"

She was seated in the chair. "Ah, give the rose," he whispered. Her
beauty shone dazzlingly on him out of the dimness.

"Never!" she flashed defiantly as she was closed in. "Never!"

"Never!"

The rose fell at his feet.

"A rose lasts till morning," said a voice behind him.

Turning, M. de Chateaurien looked beamingly upon the face of the Duke of
Winterset.

"'Tis already the daylight," he replied, pointing to the east.
"Monsieur, was it not enough honor for you to han' out madame, the aunt
of Lady Mary? Lady Rellerton retain much trace of beauty. 'Tis strange
you did not appear more happy."

"The rose is of an unlucky color, I think," observed the Duke.

"The color of a blush, my brother."

"Unlucky, I still maintain," said the other calmly.

"The color of the veins of a Frenchman. Ha, ha!" cried the young man.
"What price would be too high? A rose is a rose! A good-night, my
brother, a good-night. I wish you dreams of roses, red roses, only
beautiful red, red roses!"

"Stay! Did you see the look she gave these street folk when they shouted
for her? And how are you higher than they, when she knows? As high as
yonder horse-boy!"

"Red roses, my brother, only roses. I wish you dreams of red, red
roses!"

Chapter Three

It was well agreed by the fashion of Bath that M. le Duc de Chateaurien
was a person of sensibility and haut ton; that his retinue and equipage
surpassed in elegance; that his person was exquisite, his manner
engaging. In the company of gentlemen his ease was slightly tinged with
graciousness (his single equal in Bath being his Grace of Winterset);
but it was remarked that when he bowed over a lady's hand, his air
bespoke only a gay and tender reverence.

He was the idol of the dowagers within a week after his appearance;
matrons warmed to him; young belles looked sweetly on him, while the
gentlemen were won to admiration or envy. He was of prodigious wealth:
old Mr. Bicksit, who dared not, for his fame's sake, fail to have seen
all things, had visited Chateaurien under the present Duke's father,
and descanted to the curious upon its grandeurs. The young noble had one
fault, he was so poor a gambler. He cared nothing for the hazards of a
die or the turn of a card. Gayly admitting that he had been born with no
spirit of adventure in him, he was sure, he declared, that he failed of
much happiness by his lack of taste in su