one of the waiters. He was within two feet of the girl who
had been called "Aline." She raised her head to speak, and
saw Carlton staring open-eyed at her. She glanced at him for
an instant, as if to assure herself that she did not know him,
and then, turning to her brother, smiled in the same tolerant,
amused way in which she had so often smiled upon Carlton from
the picture.

"I am afraid I had rather go to the Bon March," she said.

One of the waiters stepped in between them, and Carlton asked
him for his bill; but when it came he left it lying on the
plate, and sat staring out into the night between the candles,
puffing sharply on his cigar, and recalling to his memory his
first sight of the Princess Aline of Hohenwald.

That night, as he turned into bed, he gave a comfortable sigh
of content. "I am glad she chose the dressmakers instead of
the pictures," he said.

Mrs. Downs and Miss Morris arrived in Paris on Wednesday, and
expressed their anxiety to have Carlton lunch with them, and
to hear him tell of the progress of his love-affair. There
was not much to tell; the Hohenwalds had come and gone from
the hotel as freely as any other tourists in Paris, but the
very lack of ceremony about their movements was in itself a
difficulty. The manner of acquaintance he could make in the
court of the Hotel Meurice with one of the men over a cup of
coffee or a glass of bock would be as readily discontinued as
begun, and for his purpose it would have been much better if