.

"You--I have seen you--I remember you," she said, wonderingly, "the
Marquise de Caron!"

"Yes;" the face of the Marquise flushed, "and you are the dancer--Kora.
Why did you weep at their words?"

"Since you know who I am, Madame, I need not hesitate to tell you more,"
she said, though she did hesitate, and looked up, deprecatingly, to
the Marquise, who stood a few paces away leaning against the window.

There was only one chair in the room. Kora perceived for the first
time that it had been given to her while the Marquise stood. She arose
to her feet, and with a deference that lent a subtile grace to her
expression, offered it to her questioner.

"No; resume your seat;" the command was a trifle imperious, but it was
softened the next instant by the smile with which she said: "A dear
old lady taught me that to the burdened horse we should always give
the right of way. We must make easier the way of those who bear
sorrows. You have the sorrow today--what is it?"

"I am not sure that you will understand, Madame," and the girl's
velvety black eyes lifted and then sought the floor again. "But you,
perhaps, heard what they said out there, and the man I--I--well, he
was there."

The lips of the Marquise grew a trifle rigid, but Kora was too much
engaged with her own emotion to perceive it.

"I suppose I shouldn't speak of him to a--a lady who can't understand
people who live in a different sort of world. But you mean to be kind,
and I suppose have some reason for asking?" and she glanced at the
lady in the window. "So--"

The Marquise looked at her carefully; yes, the girl was undeniably
handsome; a medium sized, well-turned figure, small hands and feet,
graceful in movement, velvety oriental eyes, and the deep cream
complexion over which the artists had raved. She had the manner of one
well trained, but was strangely diffident before this lady of the
other world. The Marquise drew a deep breath as she realized how
attractive she could be to a man who cared.

"You are a fool," she said, harshly, "to care for a man who speaks so
of your people."

"Oh, Madame!" and the graceful form drooped helplessly. "I knew you
could never understand. But if folks only loved where it was wise to
love, all the trouble of the world would be ended."

The hand of the Marquise went to her throat for an instant.

"And then it is true, all they said there," continued Kora; "that is
why--why I had let you see me cry; what he said