suddenly fallen.

"How do, Tony? How do, Ffoulkes?" he said, recognizing the two young
men and shaking them by the hand. "Zounds, my dear fellow," he added,
smothering a slight yawn, "did you ever see such a beastly day? Demmed
climate this."

With a quaint little laugh, half of embarrassment and half of sarcasm,
Marguerite had turned towards her husband, and was surveying him from
head to foot, with an amused little twinkle in her merry blue eyes.

"La!" said Sir Percy, after a moment or two's silence, as no one offered
any comment, "how sheepish you all look . . . What's up?"

"Oh, nothing, Sir Percy," replied Marguerite, with a certain amount of
gaiety, which, however, sounded somewhat forced, "nothing to disturb
your equanimity--only an insult to your wife."

The laugh which accompanied this remark was evidently intended to
reassure Sir Percy as to the gravity of the incident. It apparently
succeeded in that, for echoing the laugh, he rejoined placidly--

"La, m'dear! you don't say so. Begad! who was the bold man who dared to
tackle you--eh?"

Lord Tony tried to interpose, but had no time to do so, for the young
Vicomte had already quickly stepped forward.

"Monsieur," he said, prefixing his little speech with an elaborate bow,
and speaking in broken English, "my mother, the Comtesse de Tournay de