e of careless words said about a lady in no way connected
with either, would be a cruel injury to her; a duel on grounds so slight
would little injure me--a man about town, who would not sit an hour in
the House of Commons if you paid him a thousand pounds a minute. But
you, Graham Vane--you whose destiny it is to canvass electors and make
laws--would it not be an injury to you to be questioned at the hustings
why you broke the law, and why you sought another man's life? Come,
come! shake hands and consider all that seconds, if we chose them, would
exact, is said, every affront on either side retracted, every apology on
either side made."

"Bevil, you disarm and conquer me. I spoke like a hotheaded fool; forget
it--forgive. But--but--I can listen calmly now--what is that on dit?"

"One that thoroughly bears out your own very manly upholding of the
poor young orphan, whose name I shall never again mention without such
respect as would satisfy her most sensitive champion. It was said that
the Prince X------ boasted that before a week was out Mademoiselle
Cicogna should appear in his carriage at the Bois de Boulogne, and wear
at the opera diamonds he had sent to her; that this boast was enforced
by a wager, and the terms of the wager compelled the Prince to confess
the means he had taken to succeed, and produce the evidence that he
had lost or won. According to this on dit, the Prince had written to
Mademoiselle Cicogna, and the letter had been accompanied by a parure
that cost him half a million of francs; that the diamonds had been
sent back with a few words of such scorn as a queen might address to
an upstart lackey. But, my dear Vane, it is a mournful position for the
girl to receive such offers; and you must agree with me in wishing she
were safely married, even to Monsieur Rameau, coxcomb though he be.
Let us hope that they will be an exception to French authors, male and
female, in general, and live like turtle-doves."

CHAPTER VII.

A few days after the date of the last chapter, Colonel Morley returned
to Paris. He had dined with Graham at Greenwich, had met him afterwards
in society, and paid him a farewell visit on the day before the
Colonel's departure; but the name of Isaura Cicogna had not again been
uttered by either. Morley was surprised that his wife did not question
him minutely as to the mode in which he had executed her delicate
commission, and the manner as well as words with which Graham had