hould he convey this to her? His delicacy revolted against
handing it to her behind Mrs. Bradley's back, or the prestidigitation of
slipping it into her lap or under her plate before them at luncheon; he
thought for an instant of the Chinaman, but gentlemen--except in that
"mirror of nature" the stage--usually hesitate to suborn other people's
servants, or entrust a woman's secret to her inferiors. He remembered
that Louise's room was at the farther end of the house, and its low
window gave upon the veranda, and was guarded at night by a film of
white and blue curtains that were parted during the day, to allow
a triangular revelation of a pale blue and white draped interior.
Mainwaring reflected that the low inside window ledge was easily
accessible from the veranda, would afford a capital lodgment for the
note, and be quickly seen by the fair occupant of the room on entering.
He sauntered slowly past the window; the room was empty, the moment
propitious. A slight breeze was stirring the blue ribbons of the
curtain; it would be necessary to secure the note with something; he
returned along the veranda to the steps, where he had noticed a small
irregular stone lying, which had evidently escaped from Richelieu's bag
of treasure specimens, and had been overlooked by that ingenuous child.
It was of a pretty peacock-blue color, and, besides securing a paper,
would be sure to attract her attention. He placed his note on the inside
ledge, and the blue stone atop, and went away with a sense of relief.

Another half hour passed without incident. He could hear the voices
of the two women in the kitchen and dining-room. After a while they
appeared to cease, and he heard the sound of an opening door. It
then occurred to him that the veranda was still too exposed for a
confidential interview, and he resolved to descend the steps, pass
before the windows of the kitchen where Louise might see him, and
penetrate the shrubbery, where she might be induced to follow him. They
would not be interrupted nor overheard there.

But he had barely left the veranda before the figure of Richelieu,
who had been patiently waiting for Mainwaring's disappearance, emerged
stealthily from the shrubbery. He had discovered his loss on handing his
"fire assays" to the good-humored Bradley for later examination, and he
had retraced his way, step by step, looking everywhere for his missing
stone with the unbounded hopefulness, lazy persistency, and lofty
dis