t a man may bear who is not a prince of
the blood,--and borne indeed by few who are not,--and whom he desires to
see contract an alliance that will bring him enough of riches to enable
him to bear his title with becoming dignity." I glanced at Mademoiselle,
whose cheeks were growing an ominous red.

"Well, Mademoiselle," I continued, "your father and Monseigneur de
Mazarin appear to have bared their heart's desire to each other, and
M. de Mancini was sent to Canaples to woo and win your father's elder
daughter."

A long pause followed, during which she stood with face aflame, averted
eyes, and heaving bosom, betraying the feelings that stormed within
her at the disclosure of the bargain whereof she had been a part. At
length--"Oh, Monsieur!" she exclaimed in a choking voice, and clenching
her shapely hands, "to think--"

"I beseech you not to think, Mademoiselle," I interrupted calmly, for,
having taken the first plunge, I was now master of myself. "The ironical
little god, whom the ancients painted with bandaged eyes, has led M. de
Mancini by the nose in this matter, and things have gone awry for the
plotters. There, Mademoiselle, you have the reason for a clandestine
union. Did Monsieur your father guess how Andrea's affections have"--I
caught the word "miscarried" betimes, and substituted--"gone against his
wishes, his opposition is not a thing to be doubted."

"Are you sure there is no mistake?" she inquired after a pause. "Is all
this really true, Monsieur?"

"It is, indeed."

"But how comes it that my father has seen naught of what has been so
plain to me--that M. de Mancini was ever at my sister's side?"

"Your father, Mademoiselle, is much engrossed in his vineyard. Moreover,
when the Chevalier has been at hand he has been careful to show no
greater regard for the one than for the other of you. I instructed him
in this duplicity many weeks ago."

She looked at me for a moment.

"Oh, Monsieur," she cried passionately, "how deep is my humiliation! To
think that I was made a part of so vile a bargain! Oh, I am glad that M.
de Mancini has proved above the sordid task to which they set him--glad
that he will dupe the Cardinal and my father."

"So am not I, Mademoiselle," I exclaimed. She vouchsafed me a stare of
ineffable surprise.

"How?

"Diable!" I answered. "I am M. de Mancini's friend. It was to shield him
that I fought your brother; again, because of my attitude towards him
was it that I went pe