happened."

De Chauxville twirled his neat mustache, looking keenly at her the
while.

"You forget," he said. "But I--will remember."

She did not answer, but turned with a smile to greet Paul.

"I think you know each other," she said gracefully when she had shaken
hands, and the two men bowed. They were foreigners, be it understood.
There were three languages in which they could understand each other
with equal ease.

"Where _is_ Maggie?" exclaimed Mrs. Bamborough. "She is always late."

"When I am here," reflected De Chauxville. But he did not say it.

Miss Delafield kept them waiting a few minutes, and during that time
Etta Sydney Bamborough gave a very fine display of prowess with the
double-stringed bow. When a man attempts to handle this delicate weapon,
he usually makes, if one may put it thus crudely, an ass of himself. He
generally succeeds in snapping one and probably both of the strings,
injuring himself most certainly in the process.

Not so, however, this clever lady. She had a smile and an epigram for
Claude de Chauxville, a grave air of sympathetic interest in more
serious affairs for Paul Alexis. She was bright and amusing, guileless
and very worldly wise in the same breath--simple for Paul and a match
for De Chauxville, within the space of three seconds. Withal she was a