"Oh, Lavinia, look, look! It is coming right on to the end of the pier," cried Ann Preen. "Hush, Nancy, don't excite yourself," said Miss Lavinia, in lowered tones. "It will take care not to do that." The gentleman gave a wary glance at them. He saw two ladies dressed alike, in handsome black velvet mantles, and bonnets with violet feathers; by which he judged them to be sisters, though there was no resemblance in face. The elder had clear-cut features, a healthy colour, dark brown hair, worn plain, and a keen, sensible expression. The other was fair, with blue eyes and light ringlets. "Pardon me," he said, turning to them, and his accent was that of a gentleman. "May I offer you the use of my glasses?" "Oh, thank you!" exclaimed Nancy, in a light tone bordering on a giggle; and she accepted the glasses. She was evidently pleased with the offer and with the stranger. Lavinia, on the contrary, was not. The moment she saw his full face she shrank from it--shrank from him. The feeling might have been as unaccountable as that which came over her when she had been first entering the Petite Maison Rouge; but it was there. However, she put it from her, and thanked him. "I don't think I see so well with the glasses as without them; it seems all a mist," remarked Nancy, who was standing next the stranger. "They are not properly focused for you. Allow me," said he, as he took the glasses from her to alter them. "Young eyes need a less powerful focus than elderly ones like mine." He spoke in a laughing tone; Nancy, fond of compliments, giggled outright this time. She was approaching forty; he might have been ten years older. They continued standing there, watching the fishing-boat, and exchanging remarks at intervals. When it had made the harbour without accident, the Miss Preens wished him good-morning, and went back down the pier; he took off his hat to them, and walked the other way. "What a _charming_ man!" exclaimed Nancy, when they were at a safe distance. "I don't like him," dissented Lavinia. "Not like him!" echoed the other in surprise. "Why, Lavinia, his manners are delightful. I wonder who he is?" When nearly home, in turning into the Place Ronde, they met an English lady of their acquaintance, the wife of Major Smith. She had been ordering a dozen of vin Picardin from the Maison Rouge. As they stood talking together, the gentleman of the pier passed up the Rue de Tessin. He lifted his hat, and they all, including Mrs. Smith, bowed. "Do you know him?" quickly asked Nancy, in a whisper. "Hardly that," answered Mrs. Smith. "When we were passing the Hôtel des Princes this morning, a gentleman turned out of the courtyard, and he and my husband spoke to one another. The major said to me afterwards that he had formerly been in the--I forget which--regiment. He called him Mr. Fennel."