re she caught
a grand duke, who was so far fascinated as to contract a morganatic
marriage with her. Since that time Miss Pleyel's adventures have been
before the world. Her name has been lost under a score of aliases,
but there is no pretence between you and me, and no dispute as to her
identity."

"Captain Fyffe," said the baroness, "I do not yet think so poorly of you
as to believe that you have invented this abominable story, but I can
tell you that it is, from beginning to end, a tissue of falsehoods."

"Pardon me, madame," I responded, "there is no man living who knows that
wretched history half so well as I do."

"Oh, you men, you men!" cried the baroness, sweeping her little white
hands towards the ceiling, and wringing them above her head with a
tragic gesture. She turned upon me suddenly, with an admirable burst
of passion and feeling. "Captain Fyffe, I am a woman of the world; I am
_experimentee_--unhappily for me, too, too bitterly experienced. Believe
me, I already have the very poorest opinion of your sex. I beseech you
not to lower it further."

"The most casual inquiry," I answered, "if you should care to make it,
will confirm every word I have so far spoken. And now I need detain you
little longer. It is a terrible thing to say to a lady, but it must be
said. It is all the more terrible to say, because I had at one time a
sentimental worship for that poor creature who has proved herself so
often to be unworthy of any honest man's regard. No lady who knows
the reputation of Miss Constance Pleyel, or who, being warned of her
reputation, declines to test the truth of the warning and remains her
friend, can be permitted to associate, to my knowledge, with anybody for
whom I entertain the slightest regard or esteem."

"Do I understand you to threaten me, Captain Fyffe?" asked the baroness.
"You must permit me for a moment to instruct you. My position in society
is secure enough to enable me to defend any _protegee_ of mine against
any insinuation which Captain Fyffe may make."

"I make no insinuation," I returned. "I lay plain facts before you. I
will send you by messenger, within an hour, the names and addresses of
a score of people who know the facts of the case. You shall, if you
choose, employ an agent, whose charges I will defray, and whose report I
will never ask to see."

"Thank you, sir," she answered. "I do not spy upon the people to whom I
profess to give my friendship."

That was perhaps