But now the colonel thought he saw his opportunity. The first evening he dined with Lucille, and she took him after dinner into the garden, his heart overflowed, and he was able to contain himself no longer. “Mrs. der Vin-yay,” he commenced, “Loo-cill--if I may call you so--there is no man in the United States that can boast of a bigger pile than your obedient servant. I am not a lord, ma’am; I would disdain to be one. Neither am I, perhaps, an Apoller; but, in point of dollars, Mrs. der Vin-yay, you will not find my superior, and they and I are at your service, to-day, and forever, if you will only say the word.” Mme. de Vigny looked at him with surprise, mingled with a degree of contempt. She was a magnificent woman, towering several inches above the New York Senator, with a finely-molded figure, large dark eyes, chiseled features, and a voluptuous mouth. She looked like a Juno regarding a human rat. “Colonel Clutterbuck,” she replied, “you astonish me. Surely I have never encouraged you to address me in such an extraordinary manner. I have not the slightest intention of marrying again, and I must beg you never to refer to the subject.” “Very well, Mrs. der Vin-yay,” replied the discomfited suitor, “say no more about it. I thought you might have liked the pile, ma’am, if you didn’t admire the man; but it won’t go begging, Mrs. der Vin-yay, you may bet your bottom dollar upon that.” “I do not wish to bet anything, Colonel Clutterbuck,” said Lucille grandly, “nor should I take money into consideration on a question of marriage. But I am quite content with my life as it is, and have no desire to alter it.” “Ah! You’re waiting for a title, Mrs. der Vin-yay,” replied the Senator, “that’s where it is. You’ll never tell me that a fine woman like yourself means to remain single for the rest of her life. But you’re gone on these English aristocrats, like the gals in my country, and nothing will satisfy you but to be a duchess or a countess.”