picture,
of a rose or a sunset, as of the heart of a woman. You were angry just
now because I danced with M. de Kew. Do you think in a woman's eyes
jealousy is unpardonable?"

"You know how to provoke it, madame," continued the tragedian.

"Monsieur," replied the lady, with dignity, "am I to render you an
account of all my actions, and ask your permission for a walk?"

"In fact, I am but the slave, madame," groaned the Gascon, "I am not the
master."

"You are a very rebellious slave, monsieur," continues the lady, with a
pretty moue, and a glance of the large eyes artfully brightened by
her rouge. "Suppose--suppose I danced with M. de Kew, not for his
sake--Heaven knows to dance with him is not a pleasure--but for yours.
Suppose I do not want a foolish quarrel to proceed. Suppose I know that
he is ni sot ni poltron as you pretend. I overheard you, sir, talking
with one of the basest of men, my good cousin, M. de Florac: but it is
not of him I speak. Suppose I know the Comte de Kew to be a man, cold
and insolent, ill-bred, and grossier, as the men of his nation are--but
one who lacks no courage--one who is terrible when roused; might I have
no occasion to fear, not for him, but----"

"But for me! Ah, Marie! Ah, madame! Believe you that a man of my blood
will yield a foot to any Englishman? Do you know the story of my race?
do you know that since my childhood I have vowed hatred to that nation?
Tenez, madame, this M. Jones who frequents your salon, it was but
respect for you that has enabled me to keep my patience with this stupid
islander. This Captain Blackball, whom you distinguish, who certainly
shoots well, who mounts well to horse, I have always thought his manners
were those of the marker of a billiard. But I respect him because he has
made war with Don Carlos against the English. But this young M. de Kew,
his laugh crisps me the nerves; his insolent air makes me bound; in
beholding him I said to myself, I hate you; think whether I love him
better after having seen him as I did but now, madame!" Also, but this
Victor did not say, he thought Kew had laughed at him at the beginning
of the evening, when the blanche Miss had refused to dance with him.

"Ah, Victor, it is not him, but you that I would save," said the
Duchess. And the people round about, and the Duchess herself, afterwards
said, yes, certainly, she had a good heart. She entreated Lord Kew;
she implored M. Victor; she did everything in her power to