"'Oh, no,' I said; 'pardon me, I am quite willing to forget an unfortunate incident, and to add that the lady, by the merest accident, took shelter from the rain in my carriage. I never met her before.' "I saw at once that he had a look of what I took to be relief. He smiled, became quite cordial, and when I added that whatever I might have said or done the night before was really unavoidable, he returned that it was quite true that he had been hasty, and that, as he had said very little to his friends, it would rest between us. "As I rose to go, I could not help saying that the remarkably good looks of the woman made my conduct the more excusable. "'Yes,' he said; 'at least she is handsome, but--' and here he paused and then added, 'I hope before long to have the pleasure of presenting you to my wife.' "I thanked him." "One moment," said Merton, "before you go on. It is clear that the woman is a lady; that he was wildly eager to catch her, and especially at that time; that, being foiled, he lost his temper; that he believes you, or makes believe to do so; and, finally, that he is sensible enough to know that a duel with an American secretary is undesirable. You let him off easy." "I did, but I had the same kind of reason to avoid a hostile meeting that he has. Moreover, he is really a charming fellow, and it must have cost him something to apologize." "But about the woman who set all these pots a-boiling--I beg pardon, simmering--" "Oh, the woman. I hope I may never see her again." "You will. That fellow Alphonse will find her." "I hope not. But what a mess! _cherchez la femme!_" "That we must do," laughed Merton. "The mosquitoes illustrate the proverb: only the females bite. Good, that, isn't it? But what next? I interrupted you. You are out of it, but where do I come in? What about Porthos and that little red weasel Aramis?" "And D'Artagnan?" I laughed. "If you like, Greville. You are complimentary. Was that all?" "No. The count said, 'I will at once write to Captain Merton and apologize, but I fancy my friends have already done so.' I was about to take leave of the count when in walked the baron, behind the biggest mustache in Paris, a ponderous person. 'Shade of Dumas!' I muttered; 'Porthos! Porthos!' Behind him was a much-made-up little fellow, the colonel--your Aramis." "Oh, drop him. He is what the arithmeticians call a negligible quantity. What next?" "The count said, 'Allow me to present M. Greville of the American Legation--the Baron la Garde, my cousin, and the Colonel St. Pierre.' We bowed, and the count said, 'M. Greville is somewhat concerned in the affair in which you have been so kind as to act for me.' "The two gentlemen looked a little bewildered, but bowed again and sat down, while the count added: 'You may speak freely. I suppose M. Merton explained that he was not the person.'" "Oh, by all that's jolly! what a situation for the stage! A match, please. What next?"