nd 2 P. M. He was to walk slowly; he was to look searchingly in
the faces of all young women of about the age of twenty years; he was
to wear, over and above his garments of price, an air of confirmed
melancholy. That was all.

"But of the advertisement? 'Ow ----"

"Now, never you mind about the advertisement, young man. Where that is
going to come in is my business. But you can just bet your bottom
dollar that I don't intend to lose any money on you. All that you have
to do is just what I've told you; and to be well dressed, and walk up
and down Broadway for three hours every day, and look in all the girls'
faces, don't strike me as being the hardest work that you might be set
at. Now come along and be measured, and day after to-morrow you shall
begin."

As Jaune walked slowly homeward to his dismal studio, he meditated
deeply upon the adventure before him. He did not fancy it at all; but
it was the means to an end, and he was braced morally to go through
with it without flinching. For the chance of winning Rose he would have
stormed a battery single-handed; and not a bit more of moral courage
would have been needed for such desperate work than was needed for the
execution of the bloodless but soul-trying project that he had in hand.
For the life and spirit of him, though, he could not see how the tailor
was to get any good out of this magnificent masquerading.

In one of the evening papers, about a week later, there appeared a
half-column romance that quite took Jaune d'Antimoine's breath away. It
began with a reference to the distinguished elderly gentleman who,
during the past week, had been seen daily upon Broadway about the hour
of noon; who gazed with such intense though respectful curiosity into
every 'young woman's face; who, in the gay crowd, was conspicuous not
less by the elegance of his dress than by his air of profound
melancholy. Then briefly, but precisely, the sorrowful story of the
Marquis de ------ ("out of consideration for the nobleman's feelings"
the name was withheld) was told: how, the son of a peer of France, he
had married, while yet a minor, against the wishes of his stern father;
how his young wife and infant daughter had been spirited away by the
stern father's orders; how on his death-bed the father had confessed
his evil deed to his son, and had told that mother and child had been
banished to America, where the mother speedily had died of grief, and
where the child, though in ignorance