in American school teaching. She knew she could not
really dance, but she did pose in a manner rather good; and then, her
beauty!

"I was a fool when I came here--to Paris," she said woefully. "I
thought everybody would know I was colored, so I told. But they would
not know," and she held out her hand, looking at the white wrist, "I
could have said I was a West Indian, a Brazilian, or a Spanish
Creole--as many others do. But it is all too late. America was never
kind to my people, or me. You mean to be kind, Madame; but you don't
know colored folks. They would be the first to resent my educational
advantages; not that I know much; books were hard work for me, and
Paris was the only one I could learn to read easy. As for America, I
own up, I'm afraid of America."

The Marquise thought she knew why, but only said:

"If you change your mind you can let me know. I have a property in New
Orleans. Some day I may go there. I could protect you if you would
help protect yourself." She looked at the lovely octoroon with
meaning, and the black velvety eyes fell under that regard.

"You can always learn where I am in Paris, and if you should change
your mind--" At the door she paused and said kindly: "My poor girl, if
you remain here he will break your heart."

"They usually do when a woman loves them, Madame," replied Kora, with
a sad little smile; she had learned so much in the book of Paris.

The friends of the Marquise were searching for her when she emerged
from the ante-room. The Countess Biron confessed herself in despair.

"In such a mixed assembly! and all alone! How was one to know what
people you might meet, or what adventures."

"Oh, I am not adventurous, Countess," was the smiling reply; "and let
me whisper: I have been talking all of the time with one person, one
very pretty person, and it has been an instructive half hour."

"Pretty? Well, that is assurance as to sex," remarked Madame Choudey,
with a glance towards one of the others of the party.

"And if you will watch that door you will be enlightened as to the
individual," said the Marquise.

Three pair of eyes turned with alertness to the door. At that moment
it opened, and Kora appeared. The lace veil no longer hid her
beautiful eyes--all the more lovely for that swift bath of tears. She
saw the Marquise and her friends, but passed as if she had never seen
one of them before; Kora had her own code.

"Are you serious, Judithe de Caron?" gasped the