ars. His father and mother are dead,
and he could go on living in luxury now, if he liked."

"He is then, rich--Doggie?"

"He has a fine house of his own in the country, with many servants and
automobiles, and--wait"--he made a swift arithmetical calculation--"and
an income of eighty thousand francs a year."

"_Comment?_" cried Jeanne sharply, with a little frown.

Phineas McPhail was enjoying himself, basking in the sunshine of
Doggie's wealth. Also, when conversation in French resolved itself
into the statement of simple facts, he could get along famously. So
the temptation of the glib phrase outran his discretion.

"Doggie has a fortune of about two million francs."

"_Il doit faire un beau mariage_," said Jeanne, with stony calm.

Phineas suddenly became aware of pitfalls and summoned his craft and
astuteness and knowledge of affairs. He smiled, as he thought,
encouragingly.

"The only fine marriage is with the person one loves."

"Not always, monsieur," said Jeanne, who had watched the gathering of
the sagacities with her deep eyes. "In any case"--she rose and held
out her hand--"our friend will be well looked after in England."

"Like a prince," said Phineas.

He strode away greatly pleased with himself, and went and found Mo
Shendish.

"Man," said he, "have you ever reflected that the dispensing of
happiness is the cheapest form of human diversion?"

"What've you been doin' now?" asked Mo.

"I've just left a lassie tottering over with blissful dreams."

"Gorblime!" said Mo, "and to think that if I could sling the lingo, I
might've done the same!"

But Phineas had knocked all the dreams out of Jeanne. The British
happy-go-lucky ways of marriage are not those of the French
_bourgeoisie_, and Jeanne had no notion of British happy-go-lucky
ways. Phineas had knocked the dream out of Jeanne by kicking Doggie
out of her sphere. And there was a girl in England in Doggie's sphere
whom he was to marry. She knew it. A man does not gather his
sagacities in order to answer crookedly a direct challenge, unless
there is some necessity.

Well. She would never see Doggie again. He would pass out of her life.
His destiny called him, if he survived the slaughter of the war, to
the shadowy girl in England. Yet he had done _that_ for her. For no
other woman could he ever in this life do _that_ again. It was past
love. Her brain boggled at an elusive spiritual idea. She was very
young, flung cleanly trained from