These Old Shades

so.”

“Never think of it, child.” Lady Fanny wished that she had not allowed her tongue to run away with her. “Come, let me tie your ribands!” She bustled about Leonie, and presently whispered in her ear: “My sweet, do you not love him?”

“Oh, madame, madame, I have always loved him, but I did not think—until you made me see——”

“There, child, there! Do not cry, I implore you! You will make your eyes red.”

“I do not care about my eyes!” said Leonie, but she dried her tears, and permitted Lady Fanny to powder her face again.

When they went downstairs together Avon stood in the hall, and the sight of him brought the colour to Leonie’s cheeks. He looked at her closely.

“What ails you, infant?”

“Nothing, Monseigneur.”

He pinched her chin caressingly.

“It is the thought of your princely admirer that makes you blush, ma fille?”

Leonie recovered herself at this.

“Ah, bah!” she said scornfully.

Conde was not present at Madame de Vauvallon’s rout that night, but there were many others who had come to see Leonie, and not a few who had come early in the hope of securing her hand for a dance. Avon arrived late, as ever, and Madame de Vauvallon, who had no daughters of marriageable age, greeted him with a laugh, and a gesture of despair.

“My friend, I have a score of young beaux who give me no peace until I promise to present them to la petite! Fanny, Marcherand is back! Let me find—oh, la la! I should say choose—a gallant for Leonie, and I’ll tell you the scandal! Come, little one!” She took Leonie’s hand, and led her into the room. “How you have set Paris by the ears! Were my daughters older I should be so jealous! Now, child, who will you have to lead you out?”

Leonie looked round the room.

“I do not mind, madame. I will have—Oh, oh, oh!” She let go Madame’s hand, and ran forward. “Milor’ Merivale, Milor’ Merivale!” she cried joyfully.

Merivale turned quickly.

“Leonie! Well, child, and how do you go on?” He kissed her hand. She was radiant. “I hoped I might see you here to-night.”

Madame de Vauvallon bore down upon them.

“Fie, what behaviour!” she said indulgently. “Is this your cavalier? Very well, petite. You need no introduction, it seems.” She smiled benignantly upon them, and went back to Fanny’s side.

Leonie tucked her hand in Merivale’s.

“M’sieur, I am very pleased to see you. Is Madame here too?”

“No, child, I am on one of my periodical visits. Alone. I won’t deny that I was drawn hither by certain rumours that reached us in London.”

She put her head on one side.

“What rumours, m’sieur?”

His smile grew.

“Faith, rumours of the succs fou that has been achieved by——”

“Me!” she cried, and clapped her hands. “Milor’, I am le dernier cri! Vraiment, it is so! Lady Fanny says it is. C’est ridicule, n’est-ce pas?” She saw Avon coming towards them, and beckoned with pretty imperiousness. “Monseigneur, see whom I have found!”

“Merivale?” His Grace made a leg. “Now why?”

“We have heard things in London,” said Merivale. “Egad, I could not but come!”

“Oh, and we are very glad!” Leonie said enthusiastically.

His Grace offered Merivale snuff.

“Why, I believe my infant speaks for us all,” he said.

“Hey, is it you, Tony, or am I in my cups?” demanded a jovial voice. Lord Rupert came up, and wrung Merivale’s hand. “Where are you staying? When did you come?”

“Last night. I am with De Chatelet. And——” he looked from one to the other—“I am something anxious to hear what befell you all!”

“Ay, you were in our escapade, weren’t you?” said Rupert. “Gad, what a chase! How does my friend—stap me if I have not forgot his name again!—Manvers! That’s the fellow! How does he?”

Merivale flung out a hand.

“I beg you’ll not mention that name to me!” he said. “All three of you fled the country, and, faith, it’s as well you did!”

“I suggest we repair to the smaller salon,” Avon said, and led the way there. “I trust you were able to satisfy Mr. Manvers?”

Merivale shook his head.

“Nothing less than your blood is like to satisfy him,” he said. “Tell me all that happened to you.”

“In English,” drawled his Grace, “and softly.”

So once again the tale was told of Leonie’s capture and rescue. Then Madame de Vauvallon came in search of Leonie, and bore her away to dance with an ardent youth. Rupert wandered away to the card-room.

Merivale looked at the Duke.

“And what does Saint-Vire say to Leonie’s success?” he inquired.

“Very little,” replied his Grace. “But he is not pleased; I fear.”

“She does not know?”

“She does not.”

“But the likeness is striking, Alastair. What says Paris?”

“Paris,” said his Grace, “talks in whispers. Thus my very dear friend Saint-Vire lives in some dread of discovery.”

“When do you intend to strike?”

Avon crossed his legs, and eyed one diamond shoe-buckle pensively.

“That, my dear Merivale, is still on the knees of the gods. Saint-Vire himself must supply the proof to my story.”

“It’s awkward, damned awkward!” Merivale commented. “You’ve no proof at all?”

“None.”

Merivale laughed.

“It does not seem to worry you!”

“No,” sighed his Grace, “no. I believe I can trap the Comte through his so charming wife. I play a waiting game, you see.”

“I am glad that I am not Saint-Vire. Your game must be torture to him.”

“Why, so I think,” agreed Avon pleasantly. “I am not anxious to put an end to his agonies.”

“You’re very vindictive!”

There was a moment’s silence; then Avon spoke.

“I wonder if you have realized to the full my friend’s villainy. Consider for a moment, I beg of you. What mercy would you show to a man who could condemn his own daughter to the life my infant has led?”

Merivale straightened in his chair.

“I know nothing of her life. It was bad?”

“Yes, my dear, it was indeed bad. Until she was twelve years old she, a Saint-Vire, was reared as a peasant. After that she lived among the canaille of Paris. Conceive a tavern in a mean street, a bully for master, a shrew for mistress, and Vice, in all its lowest forms, under my infant’s very nose.”

“It must have been—hell!” Merivale said.

“Just so,” bowed his Grace. “It was the very worst kind of hell, as I know.”

“The wonder is that she has come through it unscathed.”

The hazel eyes lifted.