aking her head;
"the trouble is you remember none of them, though you make it
impossible that they should forget you. Many of those fine gallants of
Orleans I was jealous of and glad to see go; but this one, truly now,
he seemed to me well worth keeping."

"Had he a name?" asked the Marquise, removing some rings, and yawning
slightly.

"He had," said the girl, who was unfolding a night robe and shaking
the wrinkles from the very Parisian confection of lawn and lace and
tiny pink ribbons accenting neck and wrist. When she walked one
perceived a slight halt in her step--a reminder of the injury through
which her career in Paris had been brought to an end. "He had, my
Marquise. I mean the Federal officer, Monroe--Captain Jack, the men
called him. Of all the Orleans gentlemen he was the only one I thought
fit for a mate for you--the only one I was sorry to see you send
away."

"Send? What an imaginative romancer you are! He went where his duty
called him, no doubt. I do not remember that I was responsible. And
your choice of him shows you are at least not worldly in your
selections, for he was a reckless sort of ranger, I believe, with his
sword and his assurance as chief belongings."

"You forget, Marquise, his courage."

"Oh, that!" and Judithe made a little gesture of dismissal; "it is
nothing in a man, all men should have courage. But, to change the
subject, which of the two men have most interest for us tonight,
Captain Jack or Dr. Delaven? The latter, I fancy. While you have been
chattering I have been making plans."

The maid ceased her movements about the room in the preparations for
the night, and, drawing a low stool closer, listened with all
attention.

"Since you are afraid here and too much oppressed by your presentiments
to be useful"--she accompanied this derogatory statement with an amused
smile--"I conclude it best for you to return to the sea-board at
once--before Dr. Delaven and the rest pay their duty visit here.

"I had hoped the change in your appearance would place you beyond
danger of recognition, and so it would with any one who had not known
you personally. Madame McVeigh has been vaguely impressed with your
resemblance to Monsieur Dumaresque's picture. But the impression of
Dr. Delaven would probably be less vague--his remembrance of you not
having been entirely the memory of a canvas."

"That is quite true," agreed the other, with a regretful sigh. "I have
spoken with him many times.