troke
of the pen, every turn of the sentence, are so delicate. The faint
perfume, which is of no decided scent, touches him, too; he has never
known any one quite so perfect in all the accessories, quite so
harmonious.

"How can I?" she says, fretfully. "There is no one to look after the
house."

Floyd laughs at that.

"I should suppose the servants might be trusted, and surely Marcia
knows enough to order a meal. You do need a holiday. Come, just think
you can go. I shall be in the city a good deal the next month, and as
Freilgrath has a domicile of his own--yes, you must answer this
immediately."

She has a few other flimsy objections, but Floyd demolishes everything,
and almost threatens to write for her. There is no reason why they
should not all be good friends, even if he has married another person;
and he has a real desire to see Madame Lepelletier. He wants to smooth
out some little roughnesses that rather annoy him when he thinks of
them.

So Mrs. Grandon writes that Floyd will bring her down at the required
date. Then madame has not miscalculated.

She goes to a reception at the Vandervoorts', to a charming tea at the
Latimers'. People are talking about Freilgrath and Mr. Grandon, and
some new discoveries, as well as the general improvement in science and
literature. There is an "air" about the "house Latimer" very charming,
very refined, and madame fits into it like the frontispiece to a book,
without which it would not be quite perfect. "What an extremely
fascinating woman!" is the general comment.

Mrs. Grandon has been flurried and worried up to the last moment. She
is afraid her gowns are _passe_, that she looks old for her years, and
that her prestige as Mrs. James Grandon is over forever. But the
instant she steps into the hall at madame's the nervousness falls away
like an uncomfortable wrap. The air is warm and fragrant, but not
close, the aspect of everything is lovely, cosey, restful. A figure in
soft array comes floating down the stairs.

"I am delighted," madame says, in the most seductive tone of welcome.
Then she holds out her hand to Floyd; looks at the waiter, and orders
the trunk to be taken up stairs. "I was afraid you would repent at the
last moment, or that something untoward might happen," she continues.
"Will you sit down a moment," to Floyd, "and excuse us, just for the
briefest space?"

She waves him to the nearest of the suite of rooms with her slender
hand, and escorts