"I am not quite certain even of that," and she smiled mockingly; "sometimes I have a fancy it may be witchcraft. I only know I am haunted--have been haunted four long weeks by a face, a voice, and two blue eyes." "Blue?" Dumaresque glanced in the mirror--his own eyes were blue. "Yes, Monsieur Loris--blue with a dash of grey--the grey of the sea when clouds are heavy, and the blue of the farthest waves before the storm breaks--don't you see the color?" "Only the color of your fancy. He is the owner of blue eyes, a haunting voice, and--what else is my rival?" "A foreigner, and--Monsieur Incognito." "You have met?" "Three times;" and she held up as many white fingers. The reply evidently astounded Dumaresque. "You have met three times a man whose name you do not know?" "We are even on that score," she said, "for he has spoken to me three times and does not know what I am called." "But to address you--" "He called me Mademoiselle Unknown." "Bravo! This grows piquant; an adventure with all the flavor of the eighteenth instead of the nineteenth century. A real adventure, and you its heroine! Oh, Marquise, Marquise!" "Ah! since you appreciate the humor of the affair you will no longer be oppressed by sentimental fancies concerning me;" and she nodded her head as though well pleased with the experiment of her confession. "You perceive how wildly improper I have been; still, I deny the eighteenth century flavor, Monsieur. Then, with three meetings the cavalier would have developed into a lover, and having gained entrance to a lady's heart, he would have claimed also the key to her castle." "Astute pupil of the nuns!--and Monsieur Incognito?" "He certainly does not fancy me possessed of either castle or keys. I was to him only an unpretentious English companion in attendance on Madame Blanc in the woods of Fontainbleau." "English! Since when are you fond enough of them to claim kindred?" "He was English; he supposed me so when I replied to him in that tongue. He had taken the wrong path and--" "And you walked together on another, also the wrong path." "No, Monsieur; that first day we only bowed and parted, but the ghost of his voice remained," and she sighed in comical self-pity. "I see! You have first given me the overture and now the curtain is to rise. Who opens the next scene?" "Madame Blanc." "My faith! This grows tragical. Blanc, the circumspect, the dowager's most trusted companion. Has your stranger bewitched her also?" "She was too near sighted to tell him from the others. I was making a sketch of beeches and to pass the time she fed the carp. A fan by which she set store, fell into the water. She lamented until Monsieur Incognito secured it. Of course I had to be the one to thank him, as she speaks no English." "Certainly!--and then?" "Then I found a seat in the shade for Madame Blanc and her crochet, and selected a sunny spot myself, where I could dry the fan." "Alone?" "At first, I was alone."