roses--
L'espace d'un matin.

"La mort a des rigueurs a nulle autre pareilles,
On a beau la prier,
La cruelle qu'elle est se bouche les oreilles,
Et nous laisse crier.

"Le pauvre en sa cabane, ou le chaume le couvre,
Est sujet a ses lois,
Et le garde qui veille aux barrieres du Louvre
N'en defend pas nos rois.'"

"'Tis a gloomy song," whispered Beaufort to the young Vicomte de
Noailles, Lafayette's kinsman, and then, turning to Monsieur de St.
Aulaire, sulkily looking on at the scene and whom he hated both for his
devotion to Adrienne and because he was of the Orleans party, he said,
with languid maliciousness, "My dear Baron, a thousand pities that you
have taken no care of your voice! I can remember when it was such a one
as Monsieur Calvert's."

"You were ever a sad flatterer, my dear Beaufort," returned St. Aulaire,
one hand on the hilt of his silver dress sword, the other holding his
chapeau de bras. He regarded Beaufort for an instant with a sour smile,
and then turned and made his way to Calvert.

"Ah, Monsieur," he said, and his voice was suave, though there was a
mocking light in his eyes, "I see I have made a mistake. I had thought
you a past master in the art of skating, now I see that your true role
is that of the stage hero. You would become as spoilt a favorite as
Garat himself. The ladies all commit a thousand follies for him."

"Sir," returned Mr. Calvert, quietly, though he was white with
unaccustomed anger, "I see that you are one destined to make mistakes. I
am neither skating nor singing-master, nor clown nor coward. I am an
American gentleman, and, should anyone be inclined to doubt that fact, I
will convince him of it at the point of my sword--or with pistols, since
English customs are the mode here."

As Calvert looked at the handsome, dissipated face of the nobleman
before him a sudden gust of passion shook him that so insolent a
scoundrel should dare to speak to him in such fashion. And though he
retained all his self-control and outward composure, so strange a smile
played about his lip and so meaning an expression came into his eye as
caused no little surprise to St. Aulaire, who had entirely
underestimated the spirit that lay beneath so calm and boyish an
exterior. As he was about to reply to Calvert, Madame de St. Andre
approached. Making a low bow, and without a word, Monsieur de St.
Aulaire retired, leaving Calvert with the young girl.

"Come with