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"Oh! my dear, dear Englishman," she exclaimed, "Heaven indeed has sent you to me that I should not die of ennui! You do not know who I am I, Madame Christophor?" "I have no idea who you are," he assured her. "I have never seen you before. I know of no other name than the one by which I was told to ask for you." She leaned a little closer to him. "Come," she said, "you see me for what I am.
I am absolutely determined to do work of some sort. I am tired of living on other people and other people's efforts. Until I hear from Madame Christophor, or find another post, I am doing what I am fit for here. Don't make me any more annoyed than I am at present. I am cross enough with Janette because she will make me sit in here instead of with the other girls."
"If I fail, I will at least make more bows than any one else in a day." He leaned towards her, showing a sudden and dangerous forgetfulness of his bandaged arm. "Anne," he said firmly, "if I go back, you go back. Sometimes I think that I shall never regret anything that has happened if " The door was softly opened. It was Madame Christophor who entered with a little pile of letters in her hand.
She nodded. Already the car had vanished in a cloud of dust. "He is just from Germany or from the frontier. He very seldom comes all the way by rail. The car is always waiting." "I shall see him, then, to-night," Julien declared. "Already, without a doubt, he knows. Already he is my enemy. What about you, Madame Christophor?" "My friend," she promised, "you will have nothing to fear from me.
They heard the soft swirl of a woman's gown passing over the marble floor. They all turned. It was Madame Christophor who stood there. "Still here?" she remarked. Julien frowned. "It is not my intention to linger," he assured her. "Prince von Falkenberg has given me your message. I am prepared to go." Lady Anne moved hastily forward. "Do you know," she cried, "that they will kill him?
Madame Christophor settled herself composedly in an easy-chair. "Lady Anne shall read it aloud," she proposed calmly, "and I will assist in the corrections. For the French edition I may be able to suggest. The papers today are most amusing," she continued. "The German press is almost unreadable. No wonder that there is a price upon your head, my friend!" Julien moved restlessly in his place.
Madame Christophor was always a very beautiful and a very elegant woman, and it seemed to have pleased her during these last few days to appear at her best. Julien gripped for a moment at his bandaged arm. "You are in pain? You would like me to change the bandage?" she suggested almost eagerly. "Not yet," he replied. "It is still quite comfortable." She looked at him thoughtfully.
Already his brain was moving to the grim music of his thoughts. He looked away from the city to the fertile country. Some faint memory of those once blackened fields and desolate villages stole into his mind. He turned to his desk, drew the paper towards him and wrote. Julien was driving, a few afternoons later, with Madame Christophor.
Madame Christophor sat with her eyes fixed upon the wall. Then she began to laugh once more in the same strange manner. Falkenberg was curious. "You find my intentions amusing?" he asked. "I find the situation amusing," she replied. "Half an hour ago I offered Sir Julien Portel what is left of my life." Falkenberg stood perfectly still, watching her closely.
"I do not believe," the former declared, "that Madame Christophor intends any such act of inhospitality." "As to that," Falkenberg replied pleasantly, "my wife will be here herself in a few moments. You shall hear what she has to say from her own lips. You must remember that I have paid a price. I have given up the guardianship of my son.
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