the accepted one been superior in rank-fortune--all that flatters the ambition of woman in the choice of marriage; had he been resolute, and strong, and self-dependent amid the trials and perils of life--then possibly the woman's honour might find excuse in escaping the penalties of its pledge. But the poor, ailing, infirm, morbid boy-poet, who looked to her as his saving angel in body, in mind, and soul-to say to him, "Give me back my freedom," would be to abandon him to death and to sin. But Graham could not of course divine why what he as a man thought right was to Isaura as woman impossible: and he returned to his old prejudiced notion that there is no real depth and ardour of affection for human lovers in the poetess whose mind and heart are devoted to the creation of imaginary heroes. Absorbed in reverie, he took his way slowly and with downcast looks towards the British embassy, at which it was well to ascertain whether the impending war yet necessitated special passports for Germany. "_Bon-jour, cher ami_," said a pleasant voice; "and how long have you been at Paris?" "Oh, my dear M. Savarin! charmed to see you looking so well! Madame well too, I trust? My kindest regards to her. I have been in Paris but a day or two, and I leave this evening." "So soon? The war frightens you away, I suppose. Which way are you going now?" "To the British embassy." "Well, I will go with you so far--it is in my own direction. I have to call at the charming Italian's with my congratulations--on news I only heard this morning." "You mean Mademoiselle Cicogna--and the news that demands congratulations --her approaching marriage!" "_Mon Dieu_! when could you have heard of that?" "Last night at the house of M. Duplessis." "_Parbleu_! I shall scold her well for confiding to her new friend Valerie the secret she kept from her old friends, my wife and myself." "By the way," said Graham, with a tone of admirably-feigned indifference, "who is the happy man? That part of the secret I did not hear." "Can't you guess?" "NO." "Gustave Rameau." "Ah!" Graham almost shrieked, so sharp and shrill was his cry. "Ah! I ought indeed to have guessed that!" "Madame Savarin, I fancy, helped to make up the marriage. I hope it may turn out well; certainly it will be his salvation. May it be for her happiness!" "No doubt of that! Two poets-born for each other, I dare say. Adieu, my dear Savarin! Here we are at the embassy." CHAPTER VI. That evening Graham found himself in the coupe of the express train to Strasbourg. He had sent to engage the whole coupe to himself, but that was impossible. One place was bespoken as far as C-------, after which Graham might prosecute his journey alone on paying for the three places.