Dorris gave Ermengarde one of the little patronizing nods she was fond of bestowing on her betters, ignoring M. Isidore, whose serenity was nevertheless undisturbed. Ermengarde's acknowledgment of the fair girl's salute was a trifle ceremonious, a circumstance that possibly impelled Dorris to penetrate to the rose-embowered corner, and promptly present her captive, who drew his heels together and saluted with unmitigated melancholy. "Fancy finding _you_ here!" she graciously gurgled. "Rather noisy for you? Of course, you didn't attempt the Casino? You wouldn't like it at all. The evening is the right time for the _Salle du feu_. Such dresses--such diamonds--there's nothing like it. I must get the mater to take you one evening. The lieutenant will escort us----" "Doch," was the humble rejoinder with clicked heels. "It will be quite a ploy for you--as Mr. Welbourne says. You ought to see a little life. I'm glad you are resting here instead of at that dull old mountain place; a nice change for you--odd place to rest in though," with an arch look, for which Ermengarde could have murdered her without remorse. "You had a pleasant day at Nice, Miss Boundrish? and found your aunt better?" she asked sweetly. "My aunt? Nice? Oh, quite better," she gurgled with temporary confusion. "But, I say, Mrs. Allonby, don't you give me away. The mater doesn't know everything. Wouldn't do at all, you know. Auntie's _quite_ better, thank you. Ta ta." M. Isidore, always standing, and raising his hat at the proper time, listened to this colloquy with a smile of pleased interest, and when the pair had gone he laughed a droll little laugh. "Figure to yourself, Madame," he said, in the only tongue he ever cared to speak, "that it is possible for me to detest one of your charming sex. In that case I avenge myself by giving her to a German husband. _Hein?_" "But the poor German?" "Ah! One still remembers Alsace-Lorraine. Yes?" "Surely there are limits even to a patriotic vengeance. But I must catch this train, and please do you try to catch me Mr. Welbourne." "Perfectly." Pleasant to wind slowly through the enchanted gardens to the sea in the last sunglow, pleasanter still to find on the way a quiet nook by a rippling stream, and sink upon a bench, half hidden in geranium-trees and quite hidden from the public, and look round at the gay and fragrant flower-bands, and--see the woman of mystery seated on another bench in earnest colloquy with Cyrano, the very same Cyrano whose acquaintance had been as good as repudiated by her at Les Oliviers a few days since.