a good one. De Casimir was an observant man. He had time
to make this observation, and to see that there were no letters in
Desiree's work-basket; to note the titles of the books and the absence
of name on the flyleaf, and was looking out of the window when the door
opened and Mathilde came in.

This was a day when women were treated with a great show of deference,
while in reality they had but little voice in the world's affairs. De
Casimir's bow was deeper and more elaborate than would be considered
polite to-day. On standing erect he quickly suppressed a glance of
surprise.

Mathilde must have expected him. She was dressed in white, and her hair
was tied with a bright ribbon. In her cheeks, usually so pale, was a
little touch of colour. It may have been because Desiree was not near,
but de Casimir had never known until this moment how pretty Mathilde
really was. There was something in her eyes, too, which gripped his
attention. He remembered that at the wedding he had never seen her eyes.
They had always been averted. But now they met his with a troubling
directness.

De Casimir had a gallant manner. All women commanded his eager
respect, which they could assess at such value as their fancy painted,
remembering that it is for the woman to measure the distance. On the few
occasions of previous encounters, de Casimir had been empresse in his
manner towards Mathilde. As he looked at her, his quick mind ran back to
former meetings. He had no recollection of having actually made love to
her.

"Mademoiselle," he said, "for a soldier--in time of war--the conventions
may, perhaps, be slightly relaxed. I was told that you were alone--that
your father is out, and yet I persisted--"

He spread out his hands and laughed appealingly, begging her, it
would seem, to help him out of the social difficulty in which he found
himself.

"My father will be sorry--" she began.

"That is hardly the question," he interrupted; "I was thinking of your
displeasure. But I have an excuse, I assure you. I only ask a moment to
tell you that I have heard from Konigsberg that Charles Darragon is in
good health there, and is moving forward with the advance-guard to the
frontier."

"You are kind to come so soon," answered Mathilde, and there was an odd
note of disappointment in her voice. De Casimir must have heard it, for
he glanced at her again with a gleam of surprise in his eyes.

"That is my excuse, Mademoiselle," he said with a tentat