about--me?" I asked.

"Why; of course she does," said he. "I wrote her she must come and live
with me when I found I'd got to have----" He shut up like a clam, on
that, and looked so horribly ashamed of himself that I burst out
laughing.

"Please don't mind," said I. "I know I'm an incubus, but I'll try to be
as little trouble as possible."

"You're _not_ an incubus," he contradicted me, almost indignantly.
"You're entirely different from what I thought you would be."

"Oh, then you thought I _would_ be an incubus?" I couldn't resist the
temptation of retorting. Maybe it was cruel, but there's no society for
the prevention of cruelty to dragons, so it can't be considered wrong in
humane circles.

"Not at all. But I--I don't know much about women, especially girls,"
said he. "And I told you I thought of you as a child."

"I hope you haven't gone to the trouble of engaging a nurse for me?" I
suggested. And if he were cross at being teased, he didn't show it. He
said he'd trusted all such arrangements to his sister. He hadn't seen
her for many years, but she was good-natured, and he hoped that we would
get on. What I principally hoped was that she wouldn't prove to be of a
_suspicious_ nature; for a detective on the hearth would be
inconvenient, and women can be so sharp about each other! I've found
that out at Madame de Maluet's; I never would from you, dear. You
weren't a cat in any of your previous incarnations. I think you must
have "evoluted" from that neat blending of serpent and dove which
eventually produces a perfect Parisienne.

We went into the big hall of the Grand Hotel, where Sir Lionel said in
"his day" carriages used to drive in; and suddenly, to my own surprise,
I felt gay and excited, as if this were life, and I had begun to live. I
didn't regret having to play Ellaline one bit. Everything seemed great
fun. You know, darling, I haven't had much "life," except in you and
books, since I was sixteen, and our pennies and jauntings finished up at
the same time; though I had plenty before that--all sorts of "samples,"
anyhow. I suppose it must have been the bright, worldly look of the
hotel which gave me that tingling sensation, as if a little wild bird
had burst into song in my heart.

Although it's out of season for Parisians, the hall was full of
fashionable-seeming people, mostly Americans and other foreigners. As we
came in, a lady rose from a seat near the door. She was small, and the
least fash