imself to a most indiscreet impulse. Assuring himself that he
was unobserved, he stepped into a store, purchased a plain black domino
and mask, donned them, and then fell in with the procession once more,
dimly amused at his folly, vaguely surprised at his impropriety.

But now that he was one of the revelers he was no longer an object of
their attentions; they paid no heed to him, and he soon became bored. He
engaged himself in conversation with an old flower-woman, and, as she
had only a solitary gardenia left in her tray, he bought it in order
that she might go home. He pinned the blossom on the left breast of his
domino, and wandered to the nearest corner to watch the crowds flow
past.

He had been there but a moment when a girl approached and stood beside
him. She was petite, and yet her body beneath its fetching Norman
costume showed the rounded lines of maturity; at the edge of her mask
her skin gleamed smooth and creamy; her eyes were very dark and very
bright. As Mr. Van Dam was a very circumspect young man, not given to
the slightest familiarity with strangers, he confined his attentions to
an inoffensive inventory of her charms, and was doubly startled to hear
her murmur:

"You came in spite of all, m'sieu'!"

A French girl, he thought. No doubt one of those Creoles he had heard so
much about. Aloud, he said, with a bow:

"Yes, mademoiselle. I have been looking for some one like you."

Her eyes flashed to the white gardenia on his breast, then up to his
own. "You were expecting some one?"

"I was. A girl, to guide me through the carnival."

"But you are early. Did you not receive the warning?"

"Warning?" he answered, confused. "I received no warning."

"I feared as much," she said, "so I came. But it was unwise of you; it
was madness to risk the streets." Her eyes left his face, to scan the
crowds.

He fancied she shrank from them, as if fearing observation. Van Dam was
puzzled. Her voice and manner undoubtedly betrayed a genuine emotion, or
else she was a consummate actress. If this were some Mardi Gras prank,
he felt a desire to see the next move. If it proved to be anything more,
he fancied that he was too sophisticated to be caught and fleeced like a
countryman. But something told him that this was no ordinary street
flirtation. The words "warning," "risk" seemed to promise entertainment.
If, as he suspected, she had mistaken him for some one else, a brief
masquerade could lead to no harm. H