It is surprising to note how many pretexts a resolute, husband-hunting spinster can find for keeping a victim at her side, long after his soul has left her, and gone forth with yearning for a downy couch, a fragrant cheroot, or a fairer face. Edward Percy could be agreeable, for a reasonable length of time, to a very ugly woman. But even he felt himself an injured man when, at a late hour, he said good-night for the eleventh time to his fair enslaver--literally an enslaver, he thought. As the door of Oakley manor actually and audibly closed behind him, he heaved a sigh of gratification, and strode rapidly down the winding avenue. When the first group of trees had sheltered him from the view of the infatuated spinster, should she still be gazing after him, Mr. Percy paused, and standing in the shadow, produced a cigar and was proceeding to light it, when a hand fell lightly upon his arm, and he turned with a confused idea that she had followed him, and was about to lead him back a prisoner. But the figure that he dimly saw was, certainly, not that of Miss Arthur. "Pardon, monsieur! but I have a message for you." "Ye gods!" ejaculated the aggrieved man. Evidently the girl interpreted his thoughts, for she stifled a laugh as she said, quickly: "Not from Miss Arthur, monsieur; but from madame." "Oh, from madame," drawing a long breath. "Well, even madame will be a blessed relief; out with it, girl." "Madame will be grateful, I am sure," said the girl, mockingly. "Madame desires a word with you--now, to-night. Will you follow me?" "Where?" "To madame; she will be in the terrace arbor directly." "Oh, very well," replacing his cigar in his pocket; "lead on, then." Celine flitted on before, until the arbor became dimly visible down the pathway. Then she paused, pointed it out to her companion, and said: "Madame will soon join you there, sir. Now I must hasten to my mistress; I have kept her waiting too long." With a low, mischievous laugh she darted away in the direction of the house. Percy turned and gazed after her; then followed a few paces and watched again, until she disappeared under a wide portico. Heaving a sigh of relief he turned back toward the arbor. "I want no eavesdropping," he muttered; "and that minx might listen if she had time. She is no more a French maid than I am; she forgot her _monsieur_ just now. But a sham maid is very appropriate for a sham maiden; now for Alice;" and he entered the arbor. [Illustration: "I am afraid for you. But give up now; never!"--page 167.] Had Mr. Percy been able to follow the retreating footsteps of the objectionable French maid, however, he might have found occasion to change his opinion of her lack of time for eavesdropping, and there was excellent opportunity for its practice about the shrubbery-surrounded arbor. * * * * *