lender brows arched upward till they nearly met the
beige-blond hair that slanted sleekly backward from his forehead.
"_Pardonnez-moi_," he murmured. "Did I understand correctly,
_Mademoiselle_? Your _amoureux_--how do you say him?--sweetheart?--has
shown a disposition toward unfaithfulness, yet you accuse him of
romanticism?"

"He's not unfaithful, that's the worst of it. He's faithful as Tristan
and the chevalier Bayard lumped together, _sans peur et sans
reproche_, you know. Says we can't get married, 'cause----"

"Just a moment, dear," I interrupted as I felt my indignation
mounting. "D'ye mean the miserable young puppy cheated, and now wants
to welch----"

* * * * *

Her blue eyes widened, then the little laughter-wrinkles formed around
them. "You dear old mid-Victorian!" she broke in. "No, he ain't done
wrong by our Nell, and I'm not asking you to take your shotgun down
and force him to make me an honest woman. Suppose we start at the
beginning: then we'll get things straight.

"You assisted at both our debuts, I've been told; you've known Ned and
me since we were a second old apiece, haven't you?"

I nodded.

"Know we've always been crazy about each other, too; in grammar
school, high school and college, don't you?"

"Yes," I agreed.

"All right. We've been engaged ever since our freshman year at Beaver.
Ned just had his frat pin long enough to pin it on my shoulder-strap
at the first freshman dance. Everything was set for us to stand up in
the chancel and say 'I do' this June; then Ned's company sent him to
New Orleans last December." She paused, drew deeply at her cigarette,
crushed its fire out in an ash-tray, and set a fresh one glowing.

"That started it. While he was down there it seemed that he got
playful. Mixed up with some glamorous Creole gal." Once more she
lapsed into silence and I could see the heartbreak showing through the
armor of her flippant manner.

"You mean he fell in love----"

"I certainly do _not_! If he had, I'd have handed back his ring and
said 'Bless you, me children', even if I had to bite my heart in two
to do it; but this is no case of a new love crowding out the old. Ned
still loves me; never stopped loving me. That's what makes it all seem
crazy as a hashish-eater's dream. He was on the loose in New Orleans,
doing the town with a crowd of local boys, and prob'bly had too many
Ramos fizzes. Then he barged into this Creole dame's place