ar
to the young; wholesome and inevitable, like the measles."

"What have I done," said a charming voice close by, "that Captain
Dalrymple will not even deign to look upon me?"

The charming voice proceeded from the still more charming lips of an
exceedingly pretty brunette in a dress of light green silk, fastened
here and there with bouquets of rosebuds. Plump, rosy, black-haired,
bright-eyed, bewilderingly coquettish, this lady might have been about
thirty years of age, and seemed by no means unconscious of her powers of
fascination.

"I implore a thousand pardons, Madame...." began my friend.

"_Comment_! A thousand pardons for a single offence!" exclaimed the
lady. "What an unreasonable culprit!"

To which she added, quite audibly, though behind the temporary shelter
of her fan:--

"Who is this _beau garcon_ whom you seem to have brought with you?"

I turned aside, affecting not to hear the question; but could not help
listening, nevertheless. Of Dalrymple's reply, however, I caught but
my own name.

"So much the better," observed the lady. "I delight in civilizing
handsome boys. Introduce him."

Dalrymple tapped me on the arm.

"Madame de Marignan permits me to introduce you, _mon ami_," said he.
"Mr. Basil Arbuthnot--Madame de Marignan."

I bowed profoundly--all the more profoundly because I felt myself
blushing to the eyes, and would not for the universe have been suspected
of overhearing the preceding conversation; nor was my timidity
alleviated when Dalrymple announced his intention of going in search of
Madame de Courcelles, and of leaving me in the care of Madame
de Marignan.

"Now, Damon, make the most of your opportunities," whispered he, as he
passed by. "_Vogue la galere_!"

_Vogue la galere_, indeed! As if I had anything to do with the _galere_,
except to sit down in it, the most helpless of galley-slaves, and
blindly submit to the gyves and chains of Madame de Marignan, who,
regarding me as the lawful captive of her bow and spear, carried me off
at once to a vacant _causeuse_ in a distant corner.

To send me in search of a footstool, to make me hold her fan, to
overwhelm me with questions and bewilder me with a thousand coquetries,
were the immediate proceedings of Madame de Marignan. A consummate
tactician, she succeeded, before a quarter of an hour had gone by, in
putting me at my ease, and in drawing from me everything that I had to
tell--all my past; all my prospects for the futur