Chauxville, with a brave shrug of the shoulders, "it is
the turn of the bear. The excitement is his--the laugh is with him."

Catrina's foot was upon the loud pedal again.

"Nevertheless, madame," said De Chauxville, "I make so bold as to use
the word. You perhaps know me well enough to be aware that I am rarely
bold unless my ground is sure."

"I should not boast of it," answered Etta; "there is nothing to be proud
of. It is easy enough to be bold if you are certain of victory."

"When defeat would be intolerable, even a certain victory requires care!
And I cannot afford to lose."

"Lose what?" enquired Etta.

De Chauxville looked at her, but he did not answer. The music was soft
again.

"I suppose that at Osterno you set no value upon a bear-skin," he said
after a pause.

"We have many," admitted Etta. "But I love fur, or trophies of any
description. Paul has killed a great deal."

"Ah!"

"Yes," answered Etta, and the music rose again. "I should like to know,"
she went on, "upon what assumption you make use of a word which does not
often--annoy me."

"I have a good memory, madame. Besides," he paused, looking round the
room, "there are associations within these walls which stimulate the
memory."

"What do you mean?" asked Etta, in a hard voice. The hand holding the
album suddenly shook like a leaf in the wind.

De Chauxville had stood upright, his hand at his mustache, after the
manner of a man whose small-talk is exhausted. It would appear that he
was wondering how he could gracefully get away from the princess to pay
his devoirs elsewhere.

"I cannot tell you now," he answered; "Catrina is watching us across the
piano. You must beware, madame, of those cold blue eyes."

He moved away, going toward the piano, where Maggie was standing behind
Catrina's chair. He was like a woman, inasmuch as he could not keep away
from his failures.

"Are you advanced, Miss Delafield?" he asked, with his deferential
little bow. "Are you modern?"

"I am neither; I have no desire for even the cheapest form of notoriety.
Why do you ask?" replied Maggie.

"I was merely wondering whether we were to count you among our rifles
to-morrow. One never knows what ladies will do next; not ladies--I
apologize--women. I suppose it is those who are not by birth ladies who
aspire to the proud name of women. The modern Woman--with a capital
W--is not a lady--n'est ce pas?"

"She does not mind your abuse, monsieur," laughed Ma