speak?"

He looked steadfastly into her eyes. His plain, bearded face was
heavy-browed, lined, tired a little with the coming of age.

"Louise," he declared, "it is only because I dare not lift my thoughts
and eyes any higher that I count myself the greatest friend you ever
could have in life!"

She caught at his hand, her head drooped a little.

"Don't overpower me," she faltered. "I can't--no, I can't!"

He watched in silence the twitching of her lips, the filling of her
eyes. A momentary remorse struck him. Why should he afflict her at this
moment with his own secret? He closed his eyes, and deliberately shut
out the vision which had lured his tongue into the byways of unwonted
sentiment. He spoke firmly and without emotion.

"Louise," he begged, "let me be your confidant! No man knows more of the
game of life as it is played out between men and women. There is no one
in whom you can place a greater trust."

Her fingers clutched his, her nails dug into his palm, but he did not
flinch.

"I do not know," she murmured, her voice trembling with agitation. "That
is the truth of it all. I do not know where to go for guidance or
inspiration. Life has suddenly become mysterious. Men seem always so
strong and sure. It is only we poor women who lose our bearings."

Graillot patted her hands tenderly. Then he rose to his feet.

"You are not going?" she asked him.

"Dear Louise," he said, "I am going, because the time when I can help
is not yet. Listen! More harm has been done in this world by advice than
in any other way. I have no advice to give you. You have one sure and
certain guide, and that is your own heart, your own instincts, your own
sweet consciousness of what is best. I leave you to that. If trouble
comes, I am always ready!"

XV

During the remainder of that afternoon and evening John was oppressed by
a vague sense of the splendor of his surroundings and his companion's
mysterious capacity for achieving impossibilities. Their visits to the
tailors, the shirt-makers, the hosiers, and the boot-makers almost
resembled a royal progress. All difficulties were waved aside. That
night he dined, clothed like other men from head to foot, in the lofty
dining room of one of the most exclusive clubs in London. The prince
proved an agreeable if somewhat reticent companion. He introduced John
to many well-known people, always with that little note of personal
interest i