flushing as he spoke.

"Quite true! And you shall have it," she replied, smiling.
"Monsieur Gervase will have the second. The music sounds very
inviting; shall we not go in?"

"We spoil the effect of your entree crowding about you like this,"
said Denzil, glancing somewhat sullenly at Gervase and the other
men surrounding her; "and, by the way, you have never told us what
character you represent to-night; some great queen of old time, no
doubt?"

"No, I lay no claim to sovereignty," she answered; "I am for to-
night the living picture of a once famous and very improper person
who bore half my name, a dancer of old time, known as 'Ziska-
Charmazel,' the favorite of the harem of a great Egyptian warrior,
described in forgotten histories as 'The Mighty Araxes.'"

She paused; her admirers, fascinated by the sound of her voice,
were all silent. She fixed her eyes upon Gervase; and addressing
him only, continued:

"Yes, I am 'Charmazel,'" she said. "She was, as I tell you, an
'improper' person, or would be so considered by the good English
people. Because, you know, she was never married to Araxes!"

This explanation, given with the demurest naivete, caused a laugh
among her listeners.

"That wouldn't make her 'improper' in France," said Gervase gayly.