conversation," she returned, with a stately bow, and swept out of
the room, leaving me to curse the folly that had betrayed me into
so false a move. And with this bitter morsel for reflection I sought
my solitary room.

Nothing in the world, short of actual dishonour, can cause a man
of sensibility keener suffering than the knowledge that he has made
a fool of himself. This I had done to the top of my bent. Why had
I not apprehended the effective point of attack from the outset,
and, instead of attempting any defence, thrown myself on her
compassion and generosity? Why had I not...? But it were futile to
reiterate the charges I brought against my own folly.

What was the support on which she relied? If her brother--then I
regretted from the bottom of my heart I had missed the occasion of
squaring that account of which he had spoken. If a man at all, it
was he; for the woman who had so discomfited me was heart-whole I
could swear; a defiant modesty rang in every note of her voice.
Possibly the convent, that fallacious sanctuary for disappointment.
But if I knew anything of her sex, she was the last to whom such
a retreat could bring satisfaction. Heavens! It was a coil involved
enough to drive a man wellnigh distracted.

Dinner, and the intercourse it entailed, did much to restore me to
my ordinary bearing, and when Kit sought me in the afternoon, with
a polite request from his Captain that I would wait upon him when
at leisure, I had quite recovered. Nothing could have fallen out
more to my liking; I was anxious to discover his cause of quarrel
with me, and, if possible, to arrive at some solution of Margaret's
attitude. So I followed Kit to his room at once.

Nairn I found a trifle pale, with a well-bandaged head, but his
welcome was open and unconstrained, and his greeting met me at the
threshold. As I advanced to return it, I caught the flutter of a
dress out of the opposite door, which informed me that his sufferings
were not without certain consolations.

I took the hand extended to me with the same heartiness as it was
offered.

"Will you accept a broken man's apology for a whole man's insult,
Chevalier? I have promised my sister that I would make you this
reparation, and I am heartily glad we can return to our old footing
of Louisbourg."

"Readily, Nairn. I have seen your sister this morning, and I cannot
blame your action. I might have done the same myself. Let us say
no more about it."

"With all m