faction. "I have
you, my lady! They wished to keep you away from this young Peri,
formed upon such heroically antique models." Major Hawke gazed upon
the leather-faced visage of the slaty-eyed woman, whose age none might
venture to guess. An artless admiration of the absent Miss Justine's
photographed charms, caused a faint glow to flicker upon the ancient
maiden's cheek. When Alan Hawke drew forth a hideous carbuncle and
Indian filigree bracelet (an old relic of bazaar haunting), the thin
lips of the preceptress parted in a wintry smile.

With modest urging, he soon overcame the Roman firmness of Mademoiselle
Euphrosyne, and, wonder of wonders, was honored by an invitation to dine
with the austere Genevan maiden. The happy Major was soon triumphant
at all points, and Francois was hastily dispatched to the Photographic
Atelier to order a half dozen copies of the card portrait which
displayed to Alan Hawke the rosebud face of the Veiled Beauty of Delhi.
The adventurer made haste to excuse himself for interrupting the flow of
the Parnassian stream, and walked backward from the presence of the poor
old woman whom he had duped, as if she were a queen.

It was an easy matter for the Englishman to waylay and intercept the
returning man-at-arms of this castle of cosmopolitan beauty. Francois
had duly availed himself of his lengthened absence, and his thick tongue
and swimming eye spoke of potations of the Kirsch-wasser dear to the
Swiss heart. Major Hawke impressed the servitor with the necessity of
bringing the pictures down to his rooms upon the morrow, and then the
Major judiciously duplicated his five-franc piece. The happy butler
winked with an acute divination of the Major's purpose and went
unsteadily back to the whirlpool of learning. The Major cheerfully went
on his own way to meet Miss Genie Forbes, with whom he had established
a private understanding as to a runaway visit to the Cathedral, to
be followed by an impromptu breakfast. "I can stand the old Gorgon's
dinner," mused the happy adventurer, "after a tete-a-tete with Miss
Genie, and as for Francois, I will also waste a bottle of good Cognac
on him. I think that I will start into this strange partnership with a
better stock of family history than even this remarkably self-possessed
young woman, who seems to be the heiress of some old family vendetta."

The Major laughed as he heard the mills of the gods grinding out a
golden grist of the future. But lifted up