those long lashes was quite irresistible.

"No," he replied; "indeed, a coquette could never charm me. My ideal of
woman is some one as lofty, grand, beautiful and gifted as you."

"Yet there are coquettes," she said, gravely.

"I do not doubt it. I only say there would be no charm for me in the
fairest of them all."

Just then two gentlemen entered at the other end of the room, and the
slight noise made by their entrance caused Lady Amelie to look up.
Basil, who was watching her every movement, as he always did,
attentively, saw her turn very pale and a sudden cloud of fear dimmed
the radiance of her eyes.

"Lady Amelie, you are ill!" he cried; "or tired."

"I am tired," she said, and they sat down on one of the seats, placed
in the middle of the room. It struck him that she was anxiously trying
to conceal herself from observation, yet the idea seemed absurd.

In the meantime, the two gentlemen advanced slowly up the room. They,
too, paused before "The Coquette's Decision," and laughed. Then one,
leaving his companion, came hastily to the seat where Lady Amelie was
sitting. He held out his hand as though surprised and delighted.

"Lady Amelie!" he said. "I felt sure that I was not mistaken--that it
must be you."

There was no answering delight on her face; nothing but constraint,
embarrassment and confusion.

"How do you do, Count Jules?" she said, coldly. "This is an unexpected
surprise. I thought you had left London for some years."

"L'homme propose, Dieu dispose," said the count. "I only reached England
last night, and have hurried to London."

"It is strange that I should meet you here," she said.

"My friend, Monsieur Le Blanc, has a picture here, and I have been
criticising it for him."

Then Lady Amelie seemed to remember the laws of politeness, for she
introduced the two gentlemen, who looked very unpleasantly at each
other.

Basil did not like the count, although at first sight he was certainly a
very handsome man, essentially French, with a quick, shrewd, handsome
face and dark hair, eyes black as night, yet bright and eloquent. It was
those very eyes that Basil disliked; they were not clear, true nor
honest. In fact, a sudden hatred to the French count sprang up in his
heart, he could not tell how or why. They exchanged a few words, and
then, under pretense of drawing Lady Amelie's attention to a picture,
Count Jules said to her:

"Can you not dismiss your young cavalier? I have come to