"Do you want me to stay?" said Newman.

"I should have left you--from consideration. But my dignity suffers at
your leaving me--that way."

"Have you got anything particular to say to me?"

M. Nioche looked around him to see that no one was listening, and then
he said, very softly but distinctly, "I have NOT forgiven her!"

Newman gave a short laugh, but the old man seemed for the moment not to
perceive it; he was gazing away, absently, at some metaphysical image
of his implacability. "It doesn't much matter whether you forgive her or
not," said Newman. "There are other people who won't, I assure you."

"What has she done?" M. Nioche softly questioned, turning round again.
"I don't know what she does, you know."

"She has done a devilish mischief; it doesn't matter what," said Newman.
"She's a nuisance; she ought to be stopped."

M. Nioche stealthily put out his hand and laid it very gently upon
Newman's arm. "Stopped, yes," he whispered. "That's it. Stopped short.
She is running away--she must be stopped." Then he paused a moment and
looked round him. "I mean to stop her," he went on. "I am only waiting
for my chance."

"I see," said Newman, laughing briefly again. "She is running away and
you are running after her. You have run a long distance!"

But M. Nioche stared insistently: "I shall stop her!" he softly
repeated.

He had hardly spoken when the crowd in front of them separated, as if by
the impulse to make way for an important personage. Presently, through
the opening, advanced Mademoiselle Nioche, attended by the gentleman
whom Newman had lately observed. His face being now presented to our
hero, the latter recognized the irregular features, the hardly more
regular complexion, and the amiable expression of Lord Deepmere. Noemie,
on finding herself suddenly confronted with Newman, who, like M. Nioche,
had risen from his seat, faltered for a barely perceptible instant. She
gave him a little nod, as if she had seen him yesterday, and then, with
a good-natured smile, "Tiens, how we keep meeting!" she said. She looked
consummately pretty, and the front of her dress was a wonderful work of
art. She went up to her father, stretching out her hands for the little
dog, which he submissively placed in them, and she began to kiss it
and murmur over it: "To think of leaving him all alone,--what a wicked,
abominable creature he must believe me! He has been very unwell," she
added, turning and affecting to expla