in Paris on the 28th--Hotel Meurice.
If you care to see me will you make an
appointment? I would meet you at any place you
might suggest. The flat in the Avenue de Messine
is dismantled and, besides, I shrink from going
back there. Yours sincerely,
"JOANNA DE VERNEUIL."

"You see, my son, what she calls me--a brave, loyal gentleman," he
cried, with his pathetic boastfulness. "Thank Heaven she knows it. I
have kept the secret deep in my heart all these years. One must be a man
to do that, eh?" He thumped his heart and drank a draught of coffee.
Then he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

He eyed the brown stain disgustedly.

"That," said he, "is Paragot peeping out through Gaston de Nerac. You
will have observed that in the polite world they use table-napkins."

"The Comtesse de Verneuil," said I, bringing back the conversation to
more interesting matters, "writes that she will be in Paris on the 28th.
It was the 28th yesterday."

"I am aware of it. I have been aware of it for a fortnight. Yesterday I
had a long interview with Madame la Comtesse. It was very satisfactory.
To-day I pay her a ceremonious visit at eleven o'clock. At twelve I hope
you will also pay your respects and offer your condolences to Madame.
You ought to have a silk hat."

"But, Master," I laughed, "If I went down the Boul' Mich' in a silk hat,
I should be taken up for improper behaviour."

"You at least have gloves?"

"Yes, Master."

"Remember that in this country you wear both gloves while paying a call.
You also balance your hat on your knees."

"But Madame de Verneuil is English," I remarked.

"She has learned correct behaviour in France," he replied with the
solemnity of a professor of deportment. "You will have noticed in her
letter," he continued, "how delicately she implies that the Hotel
Meurice would not be a suitable rendezvous. In my late incarnation I
doubtless should have surprised the Hotel Meurice. I should have pained
the Head Porter. In my live character of Gaston de Nerac I command the
respect of flunkeydom. I give my card----"

He produced from his pocket and flourished in the air an ornate, heavily
printed visiting-card of somewhat the size and appearance of the Three
of Spades. I felt greatly awed by the sight of this final emblem of
respectability.

"I give my card," he repeated, "and the Hotel Meurice prostrates