"Certainly, Antoinette, there is something in what you say. And, after all, it is a charming painting. I said, Victor, when I saw it, there can be no doubt, as a painting, it is charming--did I not say so?" M. Berigny inclined his head. With his handkerchief the Vicomte smoothed his moustache. He advanced towards Mr. Lovell: "Monsieur, a Frenchman--a true Frenchman--seldom errs. On those rare occasions on which he errs he is always willing, under proper conditions, to confess his error. Monsieur, I perceive that I have done you an injustice. For the injustice which I have done you--I desire to apologize." Mr. Lovell smiled. He held out his hand. "My dear fellow! There's nothing for which you need apologize." The Vicomte grasped the artist's hand in both of his. "My dear friend!" he cried. "Philippe," whispered the lady into her husband's ear, "do you not think that you would like Mr. Lovell and his friend to favour us with their company at luncheon?" The Vicomte seemed to think he would. They lunched together--all the five! Why not? THE WAY OF A MAID WITH A MAN. (Miss Whitby writes to her Mother.) MY DEAREST MAMMA,--You will be surprised, and I hope you will be pleased to hear that I am engaged to be married! You are not to smile--it would be cruel--this, really, is serious. Charlie is all that a husband should be--you are not to laugh at that--you know exactly what I mean. I am nearly twenty, and, this time, I feel that my happiness really is at stake. I may not be able to keep my looks for long--some girls lose them when they are quite young--and something seems to tell me that I ought to begin to look life seriously in the face, and become responsible. I almost wish that I had taken to district visiting, like Emma Mortimer--it might have balanced me. Poor Emma! what a pity she is so plain. Will you mind hinting to Tom Wilson that I think he might be happy with Nora Cathcart? It is true that I made him promise that he would never speak to her again, but all that is over. I hope you will not think me fickle, dear mamma. I enclose the ring Tom gave me. Will you please give it to him? And point out to him that I am now persuaded that boy and girl attachments never come to anything serious. By the way, do not forget to tell them to send two pairs of evening shoes. Those which I have are quite worn out. Let both pairs be perfectly plain bronze. Charlie thinks that they make my feet look almost ethereal. Is he not absurd? But I hope that you will not think so, when you come to know him, for he loves your child. You might also ask them to send me a dozen pairs of stockings--nice ones. All mine seem to be in holes. You know I like them as long as you can get them.