And he read the remainder of it aloud, pausing at each sentence as though fascinated by the horror of it. When he had read the last word, the papers dropped from his fingers upon the tea-table beside him. At a grimace his eye-glass dropped the length of its cord and he stood erect, squaring his shoulders and straightening to his small height with the air of a man who has made a resolution. "Madame," he said, more calmly, "this is very disagreeable news." "It's quite sad, isn't it? But I must warn you against speaking to Aurora just yet. The news is spreading fast enough and to-morrow it may be necessary to tell her. In the meanwhile you must be gentle with her and tender--you can comfort her so much. She will need all your kindness now, Monsieur." But DeLaunay had taken out his watch. "Madame, I thank you for your kindness to me, but I am--I am much perturbed--I--I do not want to see Miss North until I can think what I must do. Would you mind if I went in town to my hotel----" "To-night?" "Yes--to-night." "She will think it strange for you to go without a word." "I--I----" "You could leave a note." "You will permit me?" Patricia watched him seat himself heavily at her writing-desk. "Monsieur," she asked, "what will you say to her?" "That I am ill--that I----" "How will that help either you or her?" He shrugged his shoulders hopelessly. "What then, Madame?" "I don't know," she said, slowly. "It is a very painful note to write. I am very sorry for you, sorry for Miss North, sorry for myself that you learned of this through me. It is curious that no one told you," she sighed. "But perhaps it is just as well that you know." "I am grateful, Madame, I cannot tell you how grateful," he began, but she held up her hand. "It pains me to see Miss North unhappy, but I know more of life than she does. I was educated in France, Monsieur, and I know what is expected of American girls who marry into the _ancienne noblesse_--the _noblesse de souche_. Of course, without a _dot_, this marriage is impossible." "Yes, Madame, that is true. It is--impossible, absolutely impossible." "Aurora--Miss North believes in your love for her--she will hardly understand----" DeLaunay swung around in his chair and rose, facing the hostess. "There must be no misunderstanding between us," decisively, "I shall go at once." "That's your decision--your final decision?" "It is--final." By this time she stood beside him at the desk, and as she spoke her finger pointed to the paper and ink. "Then you must write her to-night--before you go. It would not be fair to leave matters to me. It is not fair to her or to yourself. Sit down, Monsieur, and write." He sank into the chair again. "And what shall I write?" "If I can help you----" sweetly. "I will write what you say," with a sigh of relief. So Patricia seated herself beside him and with a troubled brow dictated in English. "My dear Miss North: