creature as his friend, his ally, his----He paused, for this house
had a master as well as a mistress.

"We will leave in the woman," he said quietly, yet with a sort of trouble
in his face.

"In your idea?" was the negligent question.

"Yes."

"Where is the woman?" insinuated the soft, bewildering voice.

"Here!" he answered emotionally, and he believed it was the truth. She
stood looking meditatively out of the window, not at him.

"In Pontiac?" she asked presently, turning with a child-like surprise.
"Ah, yes, yes! I know--one of the people; suitable for Pontiac; but is
it wise? She is pretty--but is it wise?"

She was adroitly suggesting Elise Malboir, whose little romance she had
discovered.

"She is the prettiest and wisest lady I ever knew, or ever hoped to
know," he said earnestly, laying his hand upon his heart.

"How far will your idea take you?" she asked evasively, her small
fingers tightening a gold hair-pin. "To Paris--to the Tuileries!"
he answered, rising to his feet.

"And you start--from Pontiac?"