t it meant not seeing
Lorraine all day.

He went up to his chamber and sat down to think. He would write a
note to Lorraine; he had never done such a thing, and he hoped
she might not find fault with him.

He tossed his riding-crop on to the desk, picked up a pen, and
wrote carefully, ending the single page with, "It is reported
that Uhlans have been encountered in the direction of Saarbrueck,
and, although I do not believe it, I shall go there to-morrow and
see for myself. I will be back within the twelve hours. May I
ride over to tell you about these mythical Uhlans when I return?"

He called a groom and bade him drive to the Chateau de Nesville
with the note. Then he went down to sit with the old vicomte and
Madame de Morteyn until it came dinner-time, and the oil-lamps in
the gilded salon were lighted, and the candles blazed up on
either side of the gilt French clock.

After dinner he played chess with his uncle until the old man
fell asleep in his chair. There was an interval of silence.

"Jack," said his aunt, "you are a dear, good boy. Tell me, do you
love our little Lorraine?"

The suddenness of the question struck him dumb. His aunt smiled;
her faded eyes were very tender and kindly, and she laid both
frail hands on his shoulders.

"It is my wish," she said, in a low voice; "remember that, Jack.
Now go and walk on the terrace, for she will surely answer your
note."

"How--how did you know I wrote her?" he stammered.

"When a young man sends his aunt's servants on such very
unorthodox errands, what can he expect, especially when those
servants are faithful?"

"That groom told you, Aunt Helen?"

"Yes. Jack, these French servants don't understand such things.
Be more careful, for Lorraine's sake."

"But--I will--but did the note reach her?"

His aunt smiled. "Yes. I took the responsibility upon myself, and
there will be no gossip."

Jack leaned over and kissed the amused mouth, and the old lady
gave him a little hug and told him to go and walk on the terrace.

The groom was already there, holding a note in one hand,
gilt-banded cap in the other.

His first letter from Lorraine! He opened it feverishly. In the
middle of a thin sheet of note-paper was written the motto of the
De Nesvilles, "Tiens ta Foy."

Beneath, in a girlish hand, a single line:

"I shall wait for you at dusk. Lorraine."

All night long, as he lay half asleep on his pillow, the words
repeated themselves in his d