nother. The longer she
reflected the more clearly she saw that she couldn't have done anything
but what she had done without becoming in her own eyes a hypocrite or a
prude, and so she had laid herself open to hearing those words, spoken
ever so respectfully, with a sympathy no American could have approached:

"Madame is so lonely. Madame is too much by herself. Wouldn't it
_distraire_ Madame to dine to-night, let us say, at Ciro's, or the Hotel
de Paris, and look in at the Casino afterward? Madame is always so sad."

The man was too insignificant for her wrath, but not so insignificant
that he couldn't be a warning. He was a warning that even if he failed
to touch her heart it was by no means certain that another man might not
succeed; and not long afterward a man did.

That was Sir Noel Ordway. She had met him almost at once after moving to
Cannes. She moved to Cannes practically on the advice of the
distinguished stranger who continued to follow her with eyes of
brooding concern. That is, what he said amounted to advice. It was, in a
measure, to show him that she appreciated an interest in which there was
an element that touched her profoundly that she accepted it.

She met him suddenly at one of the many turnings in the long flight of
steps that descend from the hotel at Cap d'Ail to the station, and what
there is in the way of town. She had never come abruptly face to face
with him before. She knew she colored and betrayed a ridiculous
self-consciousness. He, on his part, was unruffled and sedate, lifting
his hat with the somewhat rigid dignity that characterized all his
movements.

"Mrs. Chipman Walker, I think."

She acknowledged the words by a slight inclination. He mentioned his own
name, which she knew already.

"I've just been seeing some friends of yours," he went on, calmly, "at
Cannes. I've been lunching with the Misses Partridge."

"Oh, they're there?" It was to say something, no matter what, to cover
up her absurd confusion that she added, "They're friends of my aunt's."

"I, too, have the pleasure of knowing Miss Winfield, which will perhaps
excuse my self-introduction." She answered this by another slight
inclination, while he continued: "The Misses Partridge asked me to say
that they would be glad to see you, if you could ever make it convenient
to go over. They wished me to add that they'd come to see you, but that,
unfortunately, neither is quite well enough. You'd find them at the
Villa V