e dance after a heated, if short, altercation
with Myrna, been annoyed by the advances of those on deck, and now two
women had elected to halt within earshot of him around the corner to
_discuss_ him!

"Well," murmured a voice sweetly, "have you met the famous Monsieur
Laparde yet?"

"No"--eagerly. "Have you?"

"No--not exactly, my dear"--patronisingly. "But I'll promise to
introduce you in the morning."

"Oh, _will_ you? How perfectly gorgeous! You _are_ a dear! But how
have you managed it? Tell me all about it! I'm simply dying to know
how you succeeded!"

"It wasn't at all difficult"--in naive self-disparagement. "I met Mr.
Bliss. He's simply charming, and so unaffected! He is going to tell
me all about the art schools in Paris--of course, I'm terribly
interested! There are three in their party, you know--Mr. Bliss and
his daughter, and Monsieur Laparde."

"Do you think she's pretty? I don't see what all the men are raving
about! And did you notice her dress to-night--those black velvet
shoulder straps are actually startling!"

"Yes--_aren't_ they? I've heard so many remarks about them! But I
suppose she is pretty--in a way. It's being whispered around that she
is going to marry Monsieur Laparde. I wonder if it's true?"

"Huh!"--with a sniff. "Well, if it is true, Monsieur Laparde does not
do what I would do if I were a man in his place. It's simply
outrageous the way she carries on, if she's engaged. I wouldn't stand
it for a moment! She must have the wool pretty thoroughly pulled over
his eyes, if he imagines she is in love with him!"

"In love with his name, my dear"--in cooing amendment. "I don't
suppose she _does_ care for anything else. She doesn't appeal to me as
that kind of a woman. I'm sure I think just as you do about her. I
wouldn't care to trust her very far from what I've seen of her--she's
the sort that always strikes me as being capable of saying _anything_
behind one's back! She flirts mercilessly!"

"Yes; and fancy a man like Monsieur Laparde permitting himself to be
made ridiculous! Did you notice this morning, when everybody wanted to
walk, that the deck was utterly impassable with her court spreading
their chairs two or three deep all around her? Of course, one can't
_say_ anything! And all the time she had Monsieur Laparde trotting
back and forth like an overgrown errand boy, carrying books and wraps
and--"

"No, my dear, you are quite wrong there. Sh