ure.

The situation appealed to her sharpest instincts. Its possibilities
passed through her alert mind before she had reached the door.
Glorified in her purpose, she flung it wide open.

She was confronted by two persons,--the one bowing, hat in hand; the
other smiling, radiantly beautiful.

Mlle. Fouchette stood for a moment like one suddenly turned to stone.

This was more than she had bargained for. She leaned against the wall
instinctively, as if needing more substantial support than her limbs.
Her throat seemed parched, so that when she would have spoken the
result was merely a spasmodic gasp. Even the friendly semi-darkness of
the little antechamber failed to hide her confusion from her visitors.

Then, recovering her self-possession by a violent effort, she reopened
the inner door and announced, feebly,--

"Monsieur Lerouge,--Mademoiselle Remy!"

CHAPTER XXI

Fortunately for Mlle. Fouchette, Jean's astonishment and temporary
confusion at the unexpected apparition of the angel of his dreams
extinguished every other consideration.

Mlle. Remy stood before him--in his appartement--smiling, gracious, a
picture of feminine youth and loveliness,--her earnest blue eyes
looking straight into his lustrous brown ones, searching, penetrante!

He forgot Fouchette; he forgot his friend Henri; he forgot even the
presence of an angry father.

"Hello, Jean!"

"Henri, mon ami!"

Recalled partially to his senses, Jean embraced his old friend after
the effusive, dramatic French fashion. They kissed each other's
cheeks, as if they were brothers who had been long parted.

"We will begin again, Henri," said Jean,--"from this moment we will
begin again. Forgive me----"

"There!" cried Henri, "let us not go into that. We have both of us
need of forgiveness,--I most of all. As you say, let us begin again.
And in making a good start, permit me to present you to my sister
Andree, whom you have met before, and, I have reason to believe, wish
to meet again. I have brought her along without consulting you, first
because she insists on going where I go, next as an evidence of good
faith and a pledge of our future good-will. Mademoiselle Remy, mon
cher ami."

"No apology is necessary for bringing in the sunshine with you, mon
ami," said Jean, bending over the small hand.

"Monsieur Marot is complimentary," said Mlle. Remy.

For a moment her eyes drooped beneath his ardent gaze.

"But, then, I know him so well,"