ran to me and said that a lady wished
to see me. Why had she let her in? Lindy did not know, she could not
refuse her. Had the lady demanded admittance? Lindy thought that I would
like to see her. David, it was a providential weakness, or curiosity,
that prompted me to go into the front room, and then I saw why Lindy had
opened the door to her. Who she is or what she is I do not know to this
day. Who am I now that I should inquire? I know that she is a lady, that
she has exquisite manners, that I feel now that I cannot live without
her. She comes every week, sometimes twice, she brings me little
delicacies, new seeds for my garden. But, best of all, she brings me
herself, and I am always counting the days until she comes again. Yes,
and I always fear that she, too, will be taken away from me."

I had not heard the sound of voices, but Mrs. Temple turned, startled,
and looked towards the house. I followed her glance, and suddenly I knew
that my heart was beating.

CHAPTER VI. MADAME LA VICOMTESSE

Hesitating on the step, a lady stood in the vine-covered doorway, a
study in black and white in a frame of pink roses. The sash at her
waist, the lace mantilla that clung about her throat, the deftly coiled
hair with its sheen of the night waters--these in black. The simple
gown--a tribute to the art of her countrywomen--in white.

Mrs. Temple had gone forward to meet her, but I stood staring,
marvelling, forgetful, in the path. They were talking, they were coming
towards me, and I heard Mrs. Temple pronounce my name and hers--Madame
de Montmery. I bowed, she courtesied. There was a baffling light in the
lady's brown eyes when I dared to glance at them, and a smile playing
around her mouth. Was there no word in the two languages to find its way
to my lips? Mrs. Temple laid her hand on my arm.

"David is not what one might call a ladies' man, Madame," she said.

The lady laughed.

"Isn't he?" she said.

"I am sure you will frighten him with your wit," answered Mrs. Temple,
smiling. "He is worth sparing."

"He is worth frightening, then," said the lady, in exquisite English,
and she looked at me again.

"You and David should like each other," said Mrs. Temple; "you are both
capable persons, friends of the friendless and towers of strength to the
weak."

The lady's face became serious, but still there was the expression I
could not make out. In an instant she seemed to have scrutinized me with
a precision from w