"But we are wearing it!" screeched Annora; Melissa panted. "Mesdames, I admire your ingenuity, but such an amount of new lace cannot be passed, even on your bonnets. Two, three, five mètres," he went on, measuring the unlucky lace with his eye, "_fichu_, flounce, and so forth; so many francs, or I confiscate it." "En voiture, s'il vous plaît!" was heard. The sum demanded by the officer, added to what they had paid in purchase, would have made the lace the dearest that ever was bought. They tore off their bonnets, pulled out innumerable pins, set free the _fichus_, flounces, etc., put them into the officer's hands, and ran to their seats. Out of breath and out of pocket, they were most unhappy. Successful cheating is one thing; but unsuccessful cheating is another, and causes sharp pangs of conscience. "Too bad!" cried Melissa, as the train moved on; "we were entitled to what we wore." [Illustration: "'WE ARE WEARING IT!' SCREECHED ANNORA."] "It was that German," said Annora. "He understood English; he heard what we said; he told the official. Oh, a man may grin, and grin, and be a villain!" They groaned over their misfortune. The first time the train stopped the villain entered their compartment, still grinning. They glared at him, but he still grinned. They took refuge in silence; he began to speak. "Ladies," he said in Londonese English, "I was very sorry to have to incur your displeasure, but I felt that it was my duty to report you at the _douane_. You had innocently told me all about the lace on your bonnets, and for the credit of our country, for the sake of English honesty, I was constrained to point out your bonnets to that official. Can you forgive me?" "No," said Annora. But Melissa thought that, notwithstanding his wicked cruelty, there was something very pleasant in his smile. "I entreat your forgiveness, ladies; more, I humbly ask a favour." "Sir?" exclaimed Annora. "Miss Wylie, Miss Annora Wylie"--the presuming wretch had seen their names on their luggage, even their Christian names--"you will confer a great favour on me if you will tell me your address." Annora reddened, Melissa blushed. Perhaps he was ashamed of the cruel part he had played and was about to offer an apology; perhaps their brave and gentle endurance of misfortune had touched him; perhaps their charms had so won upon him that he wished to see more of them, with a view to--their suppositions broke off abruptly. Annora looked at Melissa, and Melissa looked at Annora. Then the elder sister spoke. "We live at 113, Angelina Gardens, Edwin Square, South Kensington, S.W." The stranger made a note of the address. Melissa was on the point of asking his name, when he said abruptly, "You shall hear from me." Then he discoursed on the country through which they were passing; after which he buried himself in a _Figaro_ and talked no more. At the next stoppage he said a brusque "Good morning, ladies," and left the compartment, and they saw no more of him.