"Ah, yes. No; that is done with. It was impossible to get along with that fellow; that came to an end very quickly of its own accord." "Why so?" "Well, I happened to make a mis-entry one day, and so--" "A false entry, eh?" False entry! There stood "Missy," and asked me straight in the face if I had done this thing. He even asked eagerly, and evidently with much interest. I looked at him, felt deeply insulted, and made no reply. "Yes, well, Lord! that might happen to the best fellow," he said, as if to console me. He still believed I had made a false entry designedly. "What is it that, 'Yes, well, Lord! indeed might happen to the best fellow'?" I inquired. "To do that. Listen, my good man. Do you stand there and really believe that I could for a moment be guilty of such a mean trick as that? I!" "But, my dear fellow, I thought I heard you distinctly say that." "No; I said that I had made a mis-entry once, a bagatelle; if you want to know, a false date on a letter, a single stroke of the pen wrong--that was my whole crime. No, God be praised, I can tell right from wrong yet a while. How would it fare with me if I were, into the bargain, to sully my honour? It is simply my sense of honour that keeps me afloat now. But it is strong enough too; at least, it has kept me up to date." I threw back my head, turned away from "Missy," and looked down the street. My eyes rested on a red dress that came towards us; on a woman at a man's side. If I had not had this conversation with "Missy," I would not have been hurt by his coarse suspicion, and I would not have given this toss of my head, as I turned away in offence; and so perhaps this red dress would have passed me without my having noticed it. And at bottom what did it concern me? What was it to me if it were the dress of the Hon. Miss Nagel, the lady-in-waiting? "Missy" stood and talked, and tried to make good his mistake again. I did not listen to him at all; I stood the whole time and stared at the red dress that was coming nearer up the street, and a stir thrilled through my breast, a gliding delicate dart. I whispered in thought without moving my lips: "Ylajali!" Now "Missy" turned round also and noticed the two--the lady and the man with her,--raised his hat to them, and followed them with his eyes. I did not raise my hat, or perhaps I did unconsciously. The red dress glided up Carl Johann, and disappeared. "Who was it was with her?" asked "Missy." "The Duke, didn't you see? The so-called 'Duke.' Did you know the lady?" "Yes, in a sort of way. Didn't you know her?" "No," I replied. "It appears to me you saluted profoundly enough." "Did I?" "Ha, ha! perhaps you didn't," said "Missy." "Well, that is odd. Why, it was only at you she looked, too, the whole time."