have practised none," he assured her.

"You mean that you have simply kept your own counsel, and that in
silence there is no deception. But it is deceitful to withhold facts
concerning yourself and your true station from your future wife. You
should not have pretended to be a simple country lawyer, which, of
course, any one could see that you are not. It may have been very
romantic, but... Enfin, will you explain?"

"I see," he said, and pulled at his pipe. "But you are wrong, Climene.
I have practised no deception. If there are things about me that I have
not told you, it is that I did not account them of much importance.
But I have never deceived you by pretending to be other than I am. I am
neither more nor less than I have represented myself."

This persistence began to annoy her, and the annoyance showed on her
winsome face, coloured her voice.

"Ha! And that fine lady of the nobility with whom you are so intimate,
who carried you off in her cabriolet with so little ceremony towards
myself? What is she to you?"

"A sort of sister," said he.

"A sort of sister!" She was indignant. "Harlequin foretold that you
would say so; but he was amusing himself. It was not very funny. It
is less funny still from you. She has a name, I suppose, this sort of
sister?"

"Certainly she has a name. She is Mlle. Aline de Kercadiou, the niece of
Quintin de Kercadiou, Lord of Gavrillac."

"Oho! That's a sufficiently fine name for your sort of sister. What sort
of sister, my friend?"

For the first time in their relationship he observed and deplored the
taint of vulgarity, of shrewishness, in her manner.

"It would have been more accurate in me to have said a sort of reputed
left-handed cousin."

"A reputed left-handed cousin! And what sort of relationship may that
be? Faith, you dazzle me with your lucidity."

"It requires to be explained."

"That is what I have been telling you. But you seem very reluctant with
your explanations."

"Oh, no. It is only that they are so unimportant. But be you the judge.
Her uncle, M. de Kercadiou, is my godfather, and she and I have been
playmates from infancy as a consequence. It is popularly believed in
Gavrillac that M. de Kercadiou is my father. He has certainly cared for
my rearing from my tenderest years, and it is entirely owing to him
that I was educated at Louis le Grand. I owe to him everything that I
have--or, rather, everything that I had; for of my own free will I have
c