seemed to disconcert
her, perhaps by reason of its directness.

"Well," she said, "my uncle has lived for many years in Paris. He
knows it as well as the Parisians themselves. He has always had a
taste for adventure, and I fancy that he has friends who are
interested in the place. At any rate, I have been there with him two
or three times, and he is always welcome."

"From what I have heard," I remarked, "I should imagine that you and I
are the only people who have been allowed to go there without
qualifications."

She glanced as though by accident at the sleeping man opposite. Then,
as though conscious of what she had done, a spot of color burned in
her cheeks. Since the anger which had first inspired her to speech had
died away, her manner had been a little shy. I realized more and more
that she must be quite young.

"Perhaps," she answered. "I do not understand the place or its
habitues. I only know that while one is there, one must be careful."

"Tell me," I asked, "what are you going to do in London while your
uncle looks after his business?"

"Amuse myself as best I can, I suppose," she answered
carelessly. "There are always the shops, and the theatres in the
evening."

"Where are you going to stay?" I inquired.

"At the Milan, I think," she answered.

Somehow her answer to my question struck me as ominous. To the Milan,
of course, where Louis was all the time predominant! The girl might be
innocent enough of all wrong-doing or knowledge of wrong-doing, but
could one think the same of her uncle? I glanced at him instinctively.
In sleep, his features were by no means prepossessing.

"I may come across you, then," I ventured.

She smiled at me. It was wonderful what a difference the smile made
in her face. To me she seemed at that moment radiantly beautiful.

"It would be very pleasant," she said. "I know no one in London. I
expect to be alone a great deal. You live in London?" she asked.

"As much there as anywhere," I answered. "I have never settled down
since I sent in my papers."

"Why did you do that?" she asked.

"I was badly knocked about at Ladysmith," I answered, "and I could not
get round in time. I haven't altogether finished soldiering, though,"
I added. "At least, I hope not."

"But where do you call your home, then?" she asked timidly.

"I am not one of those fortunate persons who possess one," I
answered. "I spend a great deal of time in Norfolk with my brother,
and I have just