if you had waited," he said in a tone of
remonstrance.

"I am used to getting into it," she assured him.

He looked attentively at her and perceived more than she thought. Then
the waitress came up and recited all that they had eaten in a sing-song
tone, and he pushed some money towards her with a gesture that disposed
of the question as to making change.

"We will go out now," he said, turning towards the door, and the next
minute they were in the cool, fresh night air. He put his hand upon her
arm, and bent his head a little.

"Do not be vexed with me," he said softly; "even a little vexing of you
makes me great pain."

Then he pressed her arm closely.

"It is not long that we have now to talk. I beg you talk to me; do not
be so sad."

"I'm not sad."

"Then talk."

She gathered up her energy with a mighty effort.

"What shall we talk about?"

"Anything. Have you a letter to-day?"

"Yes."

"From who? From Jack?"

"No, from the Marquis de W----."

His fingers came together over her arm in a vice-like grip.

"I have never heard of him," he cried; "where have you know him?"

"In Paris. And then I met him on the train--"

Von Ibn's eyes grew large with fright.

"But you must not meet men on trains," he said; "that is not at all
proper for you."

"He took charge of me from Paris to Lucerne," she said soothingly; "he
is really very delightful--"

"I did not see him at Lucerne," he interrupted.

"No, he was gone when you came."

"How old is he?"

"He is seventy."

His heat subsided suddenly, and there was a pause during which she felt
circulation returning slowly to her arm.

"And you have a letter from him to-day?" he asked, after a while.

"I have a letter from him almost every day."

He looked down at her with an air of genuine astonishment.

"What can a man of seventy say in a letter almost every day?" he asked.

"He can say a great deal. He wants me to marry him!"

He laughed aloud, and then exclaimed gayly:

"What a great lady you will be! and how nice you will look in your
mourning!" and then he threw his cigarette away and laughed afresh.

His laughter was so infectious that she laughed also.

"He writes me how happy I would be with him," she continued merrily;
"and he is very positive about it, too. How can he think that I would
really wish to marry him?"

"He can think it very well from the newspapers of your land. Is he not a
marquis? If I did not love you, I should