floor. Emerging, they encountered a tall man who was turning away
from the Countess' door, which he had just closed. The landing was not
lighted, and for a moment he failed to see the American following Madame
de Vaurigard.

"Eow, it's you, is it," he said informally. "Waitin' a devil of a long
time for you. I've gawt a message for you. _He's_ comin'. He writes that
Cooley--"

_"Attention!"_ she interrupted under her breath, and, stepping forward
quickly, touched the bell. "I have brought a frien' of our dear, droll
Cooley with me to tea. Monsieur Mellin, you mus' make acquaintance with
Monsieur Sneyd. He is English, but we shall forgive him because he is a
such ole frien' of mine."

"Ah, yes," said Mellin. "Remember seeing you on the boat, running across
the pond."

"Yes, ev coss," responded Mr. Sneyd cordially. "I wawsn't so fawchnit
as to meet you, but dyuh eold Cooley's talked ev you often. Heop I sh'll
see maw of you hyuh."

A very trim, very intelligent-looking maid opened the door, and the
two men followed Madame de Vaurigard into a square hall, hung with
tapestries and lit by two candles of a Brobdingnagian species Mellin had
heretofore seen only in cathedrals. Here Mr. Sneyd paused.


"I weon't be bawthring you," he said. "Just a wad with you, Cantess, and
I'm off."