in derision. "I doubt that. Of whom should I
speak but of her? Bah? She insulted him, she offered him gold, she sent
my men the spoils of her table, as if they were paupers, and he thinks
it all divine because it is done by Mme. la Princesse Corona d'Amague!
Bah! when he was delirious, the other night, he could babble of nothing
but of her--of her--of her!"

The jealous, fiery impatience in her vanquished every other thought; she
was a child in much, she was untutored in all; she had no thought that
by the scornful vituperation of "Milady" she could either harm Cecil or
betray herself. But she was amazed to see the English guest change
color with a haughty anger that he strove to subdue as he half rose and
answered her with an accent in his voice that reminded her--she knew not
why--of Bel-a-faire-peur and of Marquise.

"Mme. la Princess Corona d'Amague is my sister; why do you venture to
couple the name of this Chasseur with hers?"

Cigarette sprang to her feet, vivacious, imperious, reckless, dared to
anything by the mere fact of being publicly arraigned.

"Pardieu! Is it insult to couple the silver pheasant with the Eagles of
France?--a pretty idea, truly! So she is your sister, is she? Milady?
Well, then, tell her from me to think twice before she outrages a
soldier with 'patronage'; and tell her, too, that had I been he I would
have ground my ivory toys into powder before I would have let them
become the playthings of a grande dame who tendered me gold for them!"

The Englishman looked at her with astonishment that was mingled with a
vivid sense of intense annoyance and irritated pride, that the name he
cherished closest should be thus brought in, at a camp dinner, on the
lips of a vivandiere and in connection with a trooper of Chasseurs.

"I do not understand your indignation, mademoiselle," he said, with an
impatient stroke to his beard. "There is no occasion for it. Mme. Corona
d'Amague, my sister," he continued, to the officers present, "became
accidentally acquainted with the skill at sculpture of this Corporal of
yours; he appeared to her a man of much refinement and good breeding.
She chanced to name him to me, and feeling some pity--"

"M. le Duc!" cried the ringing voice of Cigarette, loud and startling
as a bugle-note, while she stood like a little lioness, flushed with the
draughts of champagne and with the warmth of wrath at once jealous and
generous, "keep your compassion until it is asked of you