ng remote in the
Caucasus.

Presently came the sharp ring of a bell. Jeanne put aside her work and
rose.

"It is my aunt who has awakened."

But Toinette was already at the door. "I will go up, Ma'amselle
Jeanne. Do not derange yourself."

She bustled away. Once more the pair found themselves alone together.

"If you don't continue your sewing, mademoiselle," said Doggie, "I
shall think that I am disturbing you, and must bid you good night."

Jeanne sat down and resumed her work. A sensation, more like laughter
than anything else, fluttered round Doggie's heart.

"_Voulez-vous vous asseoir, Monsieur--Trevor?_"

"_Vous etes bien aimable, Mademoiselle Jeanne_," said Doggie, sitting
down on a straight-backed chair by the oilcloth-covered kitchen table
which was between them.

"May I move the lamp slightly?" he asked, for it hid her from his
view.

He moved it somewhat to her left. It threw shadows over her features,
accentuating their appealing sadness. He watched her, and thought of
McPhail's words about the ghosts. He noted too, as the needle went in
and out of the fabric, that her hands, though roughened by coarse
work, were finely made, with long fingers and delicate wrists. He
broke a silence that grew embarrassing.

"You seem to have suffered greatly, Mademoiselle Jeanne," he said
softly.

Her lips quivered. "_Mais oui, monsieur._"

"Monsieur Trevor," he said.

She put her hands and needlework in her lap and looked at him full.

"And you too have suffered?"

"I? Oh no."

"But, yes. I have seen too much of it not to know. I see in the eyes.
Your two comrades to-day--they are good fellows--but they have not
suffered. You are different."

"Not a bit," he declared. "We're just little indistinguishable bits of
the conglomerate Tommy."

"And I, monsieur, have the honour to say that you are different."

This was very flattering. More--it was sweet unction, grateful to many
a bruise.

"How?" said he.

"You do not belong to their world. Your Tommies are wonderful in their
kindness and chivalry--until I met them I had never seen an Englishman
in my life--I had imbecile ideas--I thought they would be without
manners--_un peu insultants_. I found I could walk among them, without
fear, as if I were a princess. It is true."

"It is because you have the air of a princess," said Doggie; "a sad
little disguised princess of a fairy-tale, who is recognized by all
the wild boars and rabbits in the wood."