ey were alone, he was silent and led her out of the crowded
garden down upon the Quai. It was a superb night, and the moon and its
golden beams were mirrored in the lake. Little waves came running
tranquilly across the shivering silver sheet and tossing themselves
gently up against the stone-sheathed bank; some merry boat-loads were
drifting out among the shadows, listening to the music from the shore
and sending a silver echo of laughter to join in its accords.

They walked on until something of their own tumult was stayed by the
stillness, and then Von Ibn said quietly:

"Tell me of what you were saying."

"I was saying that you thought that I had remained here because of that
man, and yet it was really all an accident."

He shrugged his shoulders slightly.

"But you are quite free,--and he seems very nice, and is of your own
country and all so agreeable."

"I was really too tired to go to Constance, but--"

"Oh, madame, _je vous en prie_," he interrupted, "no explanation is
needful. It does not interest me, I assure you."

"I did not want to go to Constance until Thursday," she went steadily
on; "but I could not stay here because--because--"

"Yes," he interrupted, "all that I have understand,--I understand all."

"So," she continued, "I packed to go, and meant to go, and then when you
told me that you were leaving too, I thought that I might just as well
adhere to my--"

"What is 'adhere'?" he broke in; "that word I have never known before."

"It means--well--it means 'stick to.'"

"Glue paste?"

She felt as if a clown had suddenly turned a somersault into the midst
of the death scene of Hamlet!

"Not glue paste," she explained carefully; "of course, in one way, it
means the same thing; but I meant that when I knew that you were going,
I felt that I might just as well do as I had originally intended doing,
and remain here to rest a little."

"And you repose by coming to the Tonhalle with a gentleman?" he asked in
a tone of smothered sarcasm.

"I met him this afternoon as I was walking--"

"Have you only know him first this afternoon?"

"_Monsieur!_" she cried in horror, "I came on the steamer with him from
New York, and he went to college with my cousin!"

Von Ibn gave another shrug.

"You tell everything very cleverly," he remarked; "but, my dear madame,
we have too many difficulties,--it is always that between us, and--what
is your proverb?--no smoke without over a fire?--_Eh bien_, I beg