ed to the open window and looked out. He stood there,
thinking a moment, and then he turned back. "You know that document
that you were to send to Germany," he said. "You called it your
'renunciation.' Did you ever send it?"

Madame Munster's eyes expanded; she looked very grave. "What a singular
answer to my question!"

"Oh, it is n't an answer," said Acton. "I have wished to ask you, many
times. I thought it probable you would tell me yourself. The question,
on my part, seems abrupt now; but it would be abrupt at any time."

The Baroness was silent a moment; and then, "I think I have told you too
much!" she said.

This declaration appeared to Acton to have a certain force; he had
indeed a sense of asking more of her than he offered her. He returned
to the window, and watched, for a moment, a little star that twinkled
through the lattice of the piazza. There were at any rate offers enough
he could make; perhaps he had hitherto not been sufficiently explicit in
doing so. "I wish you would ask something of me," he presently said. "Is
there nothing I can do for you? If you can't stand this dull life any
more, let me amuse you!"

The Baroness had sunk once more into a chair, and she had taken up a fan
which she held, with both hands, to her mouth. Over the top of the fan
her eyes were fixed on him. "You are very strange to-night," she said,
with a little laugh.

"I will do anything in the world," he rejoined, standing in front of
her. "Should n't you like to travel about and see something of the
country? Won't you go to Niagara? You ought to see Niagara, you know."

"With you, do you mean?"

"I should be delighted to take you."

"You alone?"

Acton looked at her, smiling, and yet with a serious air. "Well, yes; we
might go alone," he said.

"If you were not what you are," she answered, "I should feel insulted."

"How do you mean--what I am?"

"If you were one of the gentlemen I have been used to all my life. If
you were not a queer Bostonian."

"If the gentlemen you have been used to have taught you to expect
insults," said Acton, "I am glad I am what I am. You had much better
come to Niagara."

"If you wish to 'amuse' me," the Baroness declared, "you need go to no
further expense. You amuse me very effectually."

He sat down opposite to her; she still held her fan up to her face, with
her eyes only showing above it. There was a moment's silence, and then
he said, returning to his former question, "Hav