much it pleased me. She was gowned in pink, a red rose at her bosom. I remember, as if it were yesterday, the brightness of her big eyes, the glow in her cheeks, the sweet dignity of her tall, fine figure when she rose and gave me her hand.
"I did feel sorry, ma'm'selle, that I could not go; but now—now I am happy," was my remark.
"Oh, captain, you are very gallant," said she, as we took seats. "I was not in the mood for merrymaking, and then, I am reading a book."
"A book! May its covers be the gates of happiness," I answered.
"Eh bien! it is a tale of love," said she.
"Of a man for a woman?" I inquired.
"Of a lady that loved two knights, and knew not which the better."
"Is it possible and—and reasonable?" I inquired. "In a tale things should go as—well, as God plans them."
"Quite possible," said she, "for in such a thing as love who knows what—what may happen?"
"Except he have a wide experience," I answered.
