partly because his modesty counseled him to
keep his own personality in the background, partly because the wider
the publicity of his rival's disgrace the more complete would that
disgrace be. But as his newspaper ally failed him, he took the campaign
into his own hands; that is to say, he hurried to tell the true story,
and a good deal more than the true story, to Rose and Madame Carthame.

Concerning its effect upon Rose, he was in doubt; but its effect upon
Madame Carthame was all that he could desire. This severe person
instantly took the cue that the Count dexterously gave her by affecting
to palliate Jaune's erratic conduct. He urged that, inasmuch as M.
d'Antimoine was a conspicuous failure as an artist, for him to engage
himself to a tailor as a walking advertisement, so far from being a
disgrace to him, was greatly to his credit. And Madame Carthame
promptly and vehemently asserted that it wasn't. She refused to regard
what he had done in any other light than that of a crime. She declared
that never again should his offensive form darken her door. Solemnly
she forbade Rose from recognizing him when in the future they should
chance to meet. And then she abated her severity to the extent of
thanking the Count with tears in her eyes for the service that he had
done her in tearing off this viper's disguise. Naturally, the Count was
charmed by Ma-dame Carthame's energetic indignation. He perceived that
his unselfish investigations of the actions of Monsieur Jaune were
bearing excellent fruit. Already, as he believed, the way toward his
own happiness was smooth and clear. As the Count retired from this
successful conference, he laughed softly to himself: nor did he pause
in his unobtrusive mirth to reflect that those laugh best who laugh
last.

And thus it came to pass that when Jaune, refreshed by sound slumber
and a little cheered by hope, presented himself the next morning at
Madame Carthame's gates, fate decreed that Rose herself should open the
gates to him--in response to his ring--and in her own proper person
should tell him that she was not at home. In explanation of this
obviously inexact statement she announced to him her mother's stern
decree. Being but a giddy young person, however, and one somewhat
lacking in fit reverence of maternal authority, she added, on her own
account, that in half an hour or so she was going up Fourth Street to
the Gansevoort market, and that Fourth Street was a public
thoroug