lovers in the poetess whose mind and heart are devoted to the creation of
imaginary heroes. Absorbed in reverie, he took his way slowly and with
downcast looks towards the British embassy, at which it was well to
ascertain whether the impending war yet necessitated special passports
for Germany.

"_Bon-jour, cher ami_," said a pleasant voice; "and how long have you
been at Paris?"

"Oh, my dear M. Savarin! charmed to see you looking so well! Madame
well too, I trust? My kindest regards to her. I have been in Paris but
a day or two, and I leave this evening."

"So soon? The war frightens you away, I suppose. Which way are you
going now?"

"To the British embassy."

"Well, I will go with you so far--it is in my own direction. I have to
call at the charming Italian's with my congratulations--on news I only
heard this morning."

"You mean Mademoiselle Cicogna--and the news that demands congratulations
--her approaching marriage!"

"_Mon Dieu_! when could you have heard of that?"

"Last night at the house of M. Duplessis."

"_Parbleu_! I shall scold her well for confiding to her new friend