ot at all share his mirth. She was still
looking at him with a strained gaze as though she saw him with
difficulty, through a mist increasingly smothering. Finally, as though
the fog had grown quite too thick, she dropped her eyes, and very
passive, waited for his laughter to stop.

When it did, and the trees which had looked down on Marie Antoinette
had ceased echoing to the loud, metallic, and vigorous sound, he
noticed his watch still in his hand. He glanced at it automatically,
thrust it back into his pocket and exclaimed, quite serious again,
"Look-y-here. We'll have to step lively if we are going to catch that
train back to Paris, Miss Midland--Lady Midland, I mean,--Your
highness--what _do_ they call the daughter of an Earl? I never met
a real live member of the aristocracy before."

She moved beside him as he strode off towards the gate. "I am usually
called Lady Agatha," she answered, in a flat tone.

"How pretty that sounds!" he said heartily, "Lady Agatha! Lady Agatha!
Why don't we have some such custom in America?" He tried it
tentatively. "Lady Marietta--that's my mother's name--don't seem to fit
altogether does it? Lady Maggie--Oh, Lord! awful! No, I guess we'd
better stick to Miss and Mrs. But it _does_ fit Agatha fine!"

She made no rejoinder. She looked very tired and rather stern.

After they were on the train, she said she had a headache and preferred
not to talk and, ensconcing herself in a corner of the compartment,
closed her eyes. Harrison, refreshed by the outdoor air and his nap,
opened his notebook and began puzzling over a knotty point in one of
the French Royal Grants to LaSalle[138-1] which he was engaged at the
time in deciphering. Once he glanced up to find his companion's eyes
open and fixed on him. He thought to himself that her headache must be
pretty bad, and stirred himself to say with his warm, friendly accent,
"It's a perfect shame you feel so miserable! Don't you want me to open
the window? Wouldn't you like my coat rolled up for a pillow? Isn't
there something I can do for you?"

She looked at him, and closing her lips, shook her head.

Later, in the midst of a struggle over an archaic law-form, the
recollection of his loan to his fellow-student darted into his head. He
laid down his notebook to laugh again. She turned her head and looked a
silent question. "Oh, it's just that franc and a half!" he explained.
"I'll never get over that as long as I live!"

She pulled down