so easily expressed his disappointment, that
Gertrude laughed and relented.

'Well, M. Paul,' she said, still laughing, 'I will make a side-dish of
you,' and with her own pretty hands she re-arranged the table, assigning
him a position with great demureness in the exact centre of it.

Paul would have made at least an effort to break through the crust of
sweet ice which enveloped her this morning but for the presence of a
piquante small brunette of a waiting-maid, who stood on guard, as it
were, over a service-table at the end of the apartment.

'My maid,' said Gertrude, 'neither speaks nor understands a word of any
language but her own, but I can assure you that she has eyes, and can
use them. She invariably attends me at breakfast, and to send her away
would be----'

She paused.

'What would it be? said Paul. 'Surely Madame la Baronne de Wyeth has the
right to choose what form of service she pleases at her own table?'

'Madame la Baronne,' replied the lady, with a slight curtsey, 'has
chosen.'

'But surely, Gertrude----' Paul began.

She stopped him with a significant gesture of the hand.

'Not my Christian name this morning, if you please. And remember,' she
added, 'my little watch-dog there has eyes, as I have already told you,
and though she knows nothing of English, I should guess her to be a very
fair judge of tone. Come now, you stupid boy,' she continued in a voice
so level and cool that no one who did not understand her words could
have guessed their purport, 'I will make a bargain with you. If you will
be kind to me, I will be kind to you. If I receive here a distinguished
and handsome young Englishman all alone--if in order to receive him I
make a marked alteration in my household appointments---- Come, now, is
it worth while to go on with that?'

'No,' said Paul, calling his stage practice to his aid, and following
her lead,' it is not worth while; but,' he added with a ceremonious
bow, 'I shall not break my heart if I must needs go on with Madame la
Baronne. The right which you have given me to use a dearer name is so
precious to me '--he drew out his watch and pretended to compare it with
the fairy pendule on the mantel-shelf--'is so precious,' he continued,
'that I cannot resign it, and if I am absolutely driven to it in
self-defence, I shall have to invent a dearer name.'

'Now, that, M. Paul,'said Madame, with her tone and face of chill
sweetness, 'is excellently well done, except for the