hands behind her, she stood leaning against the
grand piano, with the bearing of one only indirectly, and yet intensely,
concerned. Bienville left the task of beginning to Diane. In spite of
his determination to be self-possessed, a trace of compunction was
visible in his face as he contrasted the subdued little woman before him
with the sparkling, insouciant creature to whom, two or three years ago,
he had paid his inglorious court.

"I shall have to speak to you quite simply and frankly," Diane began,
with some hesitation, still keeping her eyes on his, "otherwise you
wouldn't understand me."

"Quite so," Bienville assented, politely.

"You may not have heard that since--my--my husband's death, I have my
own living to earn?"

"Yes; I did hear something of the kind."

"I've had what people in my position call a good situation; but I have
lost it."

"Ah? I'm sorry."

"I thought you would be. That's why Miss Grimston asked me to tell you
the reason. She was sure you wouldn't injure me--knowingly."

"Naturally. I'm very much surprised that any one should think I've
injured you at all. To the best of my knowledge your name has not passed
my lips for two years, at the least. If it had it would only have been
spoken--with respect."

"I'm sure of that. I'm not pretending when I say that I'm absolutely
convinced you're a man of sensitive honor. If you weren't you couldn't
be a Frenchman and a Bienville. I want you to understand that I've never
attributed--the--things that have happened--to anything but folly and
imprudence--for which I want to take my full share of the blame."

"I've never ventured to express to you my own regret," Bienville said,
in a tone not free from emotion, "but I assure you it's very deep."

"I know. All our life was so wrong! It's because I feel sure you must
see that as well as I do that I hoped you'd help me now."

He said nothing in reply, letting some seconds pass in silence, waiting
for her to come to her point.

"On the way up from South America," she began again, with visible
difficulty, "you were on the same ship with my--my--employer. From
certain things you said then--"

"But I've withdrawn them," he interrupted, quickly. "He should have told
you that. Mademoiselle," he added, rising, and turning toward Marion
Grimston, "wouldn't it spare you if we continued this conversation
alone?"

"No; I'd rather stay," Miss Grimston said, with an inflection of
request. "Please sit do