improbable it is, but I put the reason aside and enjoy my walk all the
more because of that fancied tryst. Now, Monsieur Loris, you have been
the victim of my romance long enough. Come; we will join Madame Blanc
and have some coffee."

"And this is all you have to tell me, Marquise?"

"All but one little thing, Monsieur," and she laughed, though the
laugh was a trifle nervous; "this morning for an instant I thought
the impossible had happened. Only one street from here my ogre
materialized again, or some one wondrously like him. How startled
I was! How I hurried poor Madame Blanc! But we were evidently not
discovered. I realized, however, at that moment, how imprudent I had
been. How shocked Maman would be if she knew. Yet it was really the
most innocent jest, to begin with."

"They often begin that way," remarked Dumaresque, consolingly.

"Well, I have arrived at one conclusion. It is only because I have met
so few men, that _one_ dare make such an overwhelming impression on
me. I rebel; and shall amaze Maman by becoming a social butterfly for
a season. So, in future bring all your most charming friends to see
me; but no tall, athletic, blue-eyed Englishmen."

"So," said Dumaresque, as he followed her to the breakfast room, "I
lay awake all night that I may make love to you early in the morning,
and you check-mate me by thrusting forward a brawny Englishman."

"Pardon; he is not brawny;" she laughed; "I never said so;
nevertheless, Monsieur Loris, I can teach you one thing: When love has
to be _made_ it is best not to waste time with it. The real love makes
itself and will neither be helped or hindered; and the love that can
be conquered is not worth having."

He shrugged his shoulders and rolled his eyes towards the ceiling.

"In a year and a day I shall return to the discussion. I give you so
long to change your mind and banish your phantasy; and in the meantime
I remain your most devoted visitor."

Madame Blanc was already in evidence with the coffee, and Dumaresque
watched the glowing face of the Marquise, surprised and puzzled at
this new influence she confessed to and asked analysis for. This
book-worm; this reader of law and philosophy; how charming had been
her blushes even while she spoke in half mockery of the face haunting
her. If only such color would sweep over her cheek at the thought of
him--Dumaresque!

But he had his lesson for the present. He would not play the
sighing Strephon, realizing