going, grimaced and looked at her with a smile of doubt
when they were alone.

"Do you realize how daring you are Judithe?--to succeed socially you
should not appeal to the brains of people, but to their vanities."

"Farewell, my social ambitions!" laughed the Marquise. "Dear Countess,
pray do not scold! I could not help it. Why must the very respectable
world see only the sins of the unfortunate, and save all their charity
for the heads with coronets? Maman is not like that; she is always
gentle with the people who have never been taught goodness; though she
is severe on those who disgrace good training. I like her way best;
and Alain? Well, he only told me to do my own thinking, to be sure I
was right before I spoke, and to let no other consideration weigh at
all."

"Yes! and he died in exile because he let no worldly consideration
weigh," said the Countess Helene grimly.

CHAPTER IX.

At the entrance to the gallery the Marquise saw Dumaresque on the
step, and with him Kenneth McVeigh. She entered the carriage, hoping
the Countess would not perceive them; but the hope was in vain, she
did, and she motioned them both to her to learn if Mrs. McVeigh had
also unexpectedly returned.

She had not. Italy was yet attractive to her, and the Lieutenant had
come alone. He was to await her arrival, whenever she chose, and then
their holiday would be over. When they left Paris again it would be
for America.

He smiled in the same lazy, yet deferential way, as the Countess
chatted and questioned him. He confessed he did not remember why he
had returned; at least he could not tell in a crowd, or with cynical
Dumaresque listening to him.

"Invite him home, and he will vow it was to see you," said the
artist.

"I mean to," she retorted; "but do not judge all men by yourself,
Monsieur Loris, for I suspect Lieutenant McVeigh has a conscience."

"I have," he acknowledged, "too much of one to take advantage of your
invitation. Some day, when you are not tired from the crowds, I shall
come, if you will allow me."

"No, no; come now!" insisted the Countess, impulsively; "you will rest
me; I assure you it is true! We have been with women--women all
morning! So take pity on us. We want to hear all about the battle
grounds and fortresses you were to inspect. The Marquise, especially,
is a lover of wars."

"And of warriors?" queried Dumaresque; but the Countess paid no
attention to him.

"Yes, she is really a revolut