foot lazily, and to regard him silently through half
closed lashes: "what does it all mean? Fairest of women, tell me."

"It means, _Mon Brave_, that I did not sail in the _Golden Rose_; I
only sent my hat and veil."

"Wonderful woman! Well, thereby hangs a tale, and I listen."

"I came back to see--"

"Not old Verage?" he interrupted, maliciously.

"No, hush: he saw me safely on board the _Golden Rose_--very gallant
of him, wasn't it?"

"Rather--yes, considering. And if I did not know Miss Cora Weston so
very well, I should be surprised at all this mystery; as it is, I
simply wait to be enlightened."

"And enlightened you shall be, monsieur."

She threw off her air of listlessness and arose, crossing over and
standing before him, leaning upon a high-backed chair, and speaking
rapidly.

Lucian, meantime, produced a cigar case, lit a weed, and assuming the
attitude and manner she had just abandoned, bade her proceed.

"You see," she said, "I did not like the idea of quitting the country
because of a little difference of opinion between myself and an old
idiot like Verage."

"A difference of some thousands out of pocket for him; well, go on."

"Just so, comrade mine. Well, fortune favored me; she generally does.
I learned, at almost the last moment, that a lady of my acquaintance
had taken passage in the same vessel. I interviewed her, and found her
in the condition of the good people in novels who have seen better
days; her exchequer was at low ebb, and, like myself, she had reasons
which induced her to emigrate. I did not inquire into these, having no
reason to doubt the statement, but I accompanied her on board the
_Golden Rose_, bade her a fond farewell, and bequeathed to her my
street apparel and a trifling sum of old Verage's money. In exchange,
I donned her bonnet and veil, and adopted her rather awkward gait, and
so had the satisfaction of seeing, on my return to terra firma, old
Verage gazing enraptured after my Paris bonnet and floating veil as it
disappeared with my friend, outward bound."

"Well, what next? All the world, your world, supposes you now upon the
briny deep. Old Verage will be rejoiced to find you here in the city;
what then?"

"I think he will," said Cora, dryly, "when he does find me. I did not
come here in the dark to advertise my arrival."

"Bravo, Cora," he patted her hands softly; "wise Cora. You are a
credit to your friends, indeed you are, my blonde beauty."

She laug