s dare twinkle
beside her?"

"Don't attempt the poetical," suggested the other, unfeelingly. "I am
to suppose, then, that you know her--this Madame Alain?"

"Do I know her? Haven't I been raving about her for days? Haven't you
vowed she belonged to the type abhorrent to you? Haven't I had to
endure your reflections on my sanity because of the adjectives I've
employed to describe her attractions? Haven't you been laughing at
your own mother and myself for our infatuation?--and now--"

He stopped, because the Lieutenant's grip on his shoulder was
uncomfortably tight, as he said:

"Shut up! Who the devil are you talking about?"

"By the same power, how can I shut up and tell you at the same time?"
and Delaven moved his arm, and felt of his shoulder, with exaggerated
self-pity. "Man! but you've got a grip in that fist of yours."

"Who is the lady you call Madame Alain?"

"Faith, if you had gone to her home when you were invited you'd have
no need to ask me the question this day. Her nearest friends call her
Madame Alain, because that was the given name of her husband, the
saints be good to him! and it helps distinguish her from the dowager.
But for all that she is the lady you disdained to know--Madame la
Marquise de Caron."

McVeigh stared at him moodily, even doubtfully.

"You are not trying to play a practical joke, I reckon?" he said at
last; and then without waiting for a reply, walked over to the office
window, where he stood staring out, his hands in his pockets, his back
to Delaven, who was eyeing him calmly. Directly, he came back
smiling; his moody fit all gone.

"And I was idiot enough to disdain that invitation?" he asked; "well,
Fitz, I have repented. I am willing to do penance in any agreeable way
we can conjure up, and to commence by calling tomorrow, if you can
find a way."

Delaven found a way. Finding the way out of, or into difficulties was
one of his strong points and one he especially delighted in, if it had
a flavor of intrigue, and was to serve a friend. Since his mother's
death in Paris, several years before, he had made his home in or about
the city. He was without near relatives, but had quite a number of
connections whose social standing was such that there were few doors
he could not find keys to, or a password that was the equivalent. His
own frank, ingenuous nature made him quite as many friends as his
social and diplomatic connections; so that despite the fact of a not
enormous