keen, searching eye, which she met with a decided frankness. Evidently,
in his judgment, she was speaking the truth.

"You know English, I think, Madame," he resumed, addressing her in that
language.

"A leetle; speak un peu."

"Only a little?"

Madame Duval looked puzzled, and replied in French, with a laugh, "Is it
that you were told that I spoke English by your countryman, Milord Sare
Boulby? Petit scelerat, I hope he is well. He sends you a commission for
me,--so he ought; he behaved to me like a monster."

"Alas! I know nothing of Milord Sir Boulby. Were you never in England
yourself?"

"Never," with a coquettish side-glance; "I should like so much to go. I
have a foible for the English in spite of that vilain petit Boulby. Who
is it gave you the commission for me? Ha! I guess, le Capitaine Nelton."

"No. What year, Madame, if not impertinent, were you at
Aix-la-Chapelle?"

"You mean Baden? I was there seven years ago, when I met le Capitaine
Nelton, bel homme aux cheveux rouges."

"But you have been at Aix?"

"Never."

"I have, then, been mistaken, Madame, and have only to offer my most
humble apologies."

"But perhaps you will favour me with a visit, and we may on further
conversation find that you are not mistaken. I can't stay now, for I am
engaged to dance with the Belgian of whom, no doubt, M. Lemercier has
told you."

"No, Madame, he has not."

"Well, then, he will tell you. The Belgian is very jealous; but I am
always at home between three and four; this is my card."

Graham eagerly took the card, and exclaimed, "Is this you're your own
handwriting, Madame?"

"Yes, indeed."

"Tres belle ecriture," said Graham, and receded with a ceremonious bow.
"Anything so unlike her handwriting! Another disappointment," muttered
the Englishman as the lady went back to the ball.

A few minutes later Graham joined Lemercier, who was talking with De
Passy and De Breze.

"Well," said Lemercier, when his eye rested on Graham, "I hit the right
nail on the head this time, eh?"

Graham shook his head.

"What! is she not the right Louise Duval?"

"Certainly not."

The Count de Passy overheard the name, and turned. "Louise Duval," he
said; "does Monsieur Vane know a Louise Duval?"

"No; but a friend asked me to inquire after a lady of that name whom he
had met many years ago at Paris." The Count mused a moment, and said,
"Is it possible that your friend knew the family De Mauleon?"

"I really c