lingness, they rolled away together, and
Madame confided to Paul the purpose of her visit to these solitudes at a
so inclement season of the year. It was her intent to study the ancient
Walloon tongue upon its own ground, and to put her studies to some
literary effect by an elaborate comparison of the language spoken by
the peasantry of the present day with that of the earliest of the French
_jongleurs_ and chroniclers.

'So you see, Mr. Armstrong,' she said sweetly, 'that if you are resolved
upon keeping your artistic quiet here throughout the greater part of the
winter, you and I will have some opportunity of becoming known to each
other.'

Paul did not dare to say how warm a welcome he accorded to this
suggestion, but it was dangerously sweet to him, and he had
self-understanding enough to recognise that fact. But he was in no mood
to struggle against whatever Fate might bring. He was not coxcomb enough
to conceive himself likely to be dangerous to a witty and experienced
woman of the world, and as to what might happen to himself he did not
care. He was desolate enough to be desperate, and if in two short days
he had learned to believe that the final loss of the new interest he had
found would be among the gravest of troubles, he had learned also as
a part of that lesson that the society would be strangely sweet to him
whilst it lasted. On Paul's side there was no thought of a flirtation,
and on the side of the Baroness there was not much thought of anything
else, so that they got on most famously together, for it is always
richer sport in a case of this kind to have one of the parties concerned
in earnest Paul took all the soulful shop, on the strength of which the
lady had patrolled Europe and the United States on a sort of sentimental
journey, to be as serious as the Evangels, and the discussion of it made
the drive an undiluted pleasure to him.

But when the carriage returned to the hotel and passed Paul's study at
a walking pace, he caught sight of Annette at the window, and her face
seemed to him to offer some promise of a scene. She certainly bent a
look of surprised anger upon her husband and the strange, richly-dressed
lady with whom he was seated, but he waved his hand to her as he went by
and made up a mind to trust to the chapter of chances. As it turned out,
Annette was not inclined to be disagreeable, and hearing of the lady's
rank, and being casually informed that she was the wife of the great
Ameri