and next moment were leaping upon
her skirts with little yelps of greeting.

"Mademoiselle!" and La Mothe sprang to his feet. "I did not hear you
coming: how could I have been so deaf?" It was on his tongue to add,
"I, who have been listening for the sound of your feet these hours
past," but he wisely checked himself in time.

"Are you going to win all Amboise in a single day?" she answered,
stooping so that the jubilant puppies almost scrambled into her lap.
"You do not ask after the Dauphin?"

"I fear I had forgotten him," he replied, and though there was no
intentional significance in his voice Ursula de Vesc was woman enough
to understand the subtle compliment. "How is he?"

"If you forget, we do not. He is as well as a nervous boy can be after
such an ordeal. He is looking forward to seeing you this afternoon to
try to say to you what we all feel. Monsieur La Mothe, let me----"

"Nervous he may be, but he is no coward," interrupted La Mothe hastily.
He foresaw what was coming and had all a shy man's horror of being
thanked. "He sat his horse like a little hero. There is no such
courage as to wait quietly for death."

"And what of the courage which goes to meet death?" Pushing the dogs
from her Ursula de Vesc looked up, her face very grave and tender in
the shadows, as the spring of tears glistened under the lashes. Life
had brought her so little to be grateful for that the happiness of
gratitude was very great.

"No, you must let me speak this once, I said hard things to you last
night, and my thoughts were still harder: to-day you have answered me,
and I am ashamed. Devotion? Gratitude? It is we who owe you these,
and we have nothing wherewith to pay. Monsieur La Mothe----"

But again La Mothe interrupted her.

"Think kindly sometimes and I am more than paid. Forgive the
presumption, for why should you think of me at all? Forget the hard
thoughts, mademoiselle, and let that pay in full."

"There can be no more hard thoughts. How could we think hard thoughts
of our friends?"

"Friends? If that might be."

With the quick instinct which belongs to well-bred puppydom, and is not
unknown even in children, the dogs had caught the graver note which
changed her voice. By common consent they ceased their restless play
and, seated on their haunches, their sleek heads aslant, watched her
with wistful eyes; here was something their love could not quite
understand.

"Friends? Amboise has mo