"I but learned it a few minutes before Madame herself came here."
"So! From whom?"
"I learnt it from the Vicomte d'Humières."
"The Vicomte d'Humières! My husband! Are you acquainted with him, then?"
"I can scarcely claim to be acquainted with the Vicomte. It seems, Madame, that this has been a morning of coincidences. It would appear that just before Madame perceived my little picture at the Academy, the Vicomte d'Humières perceived it too."
"Truly! But how magnificent!"
The lady clasped her hands in a little ecstasy.
"The Vicomte d'Humières did not seem to consider it magnificent. He took a distinctly contrary view."
"But that is certain!"
"He requested me to furnish him with your address. When I informed him that I was not acquainted with Madame, he desired to know who had authorized me to send your portrait to a public exhibition. I observed that I was not aware that it was the portrait of Madame, since the face in the picture was but the study of a face which I had seen in a dream."
"In a dream! You did not tell him—the little history?"
"I entered into no particulars."
"I entreat you, Monsieur, not to tell him the little history. There will be a scandal; he is so quick to misconceive."
"I will endeavour to observe Madame's wishes."
"It is like a little romance, is it not, Monsieur? Perhaps I should explain myself a little further. That night"—she emphasized the that—"I left my husband. In effect, he had become unbearable. I have seen and heard nothing of him since. But I am beginning to become conscious of a desire to meet with him again. I know not why! I suppose, when one loves one's husband truly, one wishes to meet him—once a year. I do not wish our reconciliation to be inaugurated by a quarrel—no, I entreat you, Monsieur, not to recount to him that little history."
"I should inform Madame that I expect the Vicomte d'Humières to return."
"Return? Where? Here? When?"
"Very shortly—with a friend. In fact, unless I am mistaken, he comes already."
The lady listened.
"It is Philippe's voice! Mon Dieu! He must not find me here."
"But, Madame———"
"Ah, the screen! It is like farce at the Palais Royale—is it not a fact? I will be your model, Monsieur, behind the screen!"
"Madame!"
Before he could interpose to prevent her, the lady vanished behind the screen. The door of the studio opened, and the Vicomte d'Humières entered, accompanied by his friend.
II.
"The Vicomte's Friend."
The Vicomte's friend was a gentleman of a figure which is not uncommon in France, even to-day. His attitude suggested a ramrod, he breathed powder and shot; and he bristled—what shall we say?—with bayonets. The last person in the world with whom a modern Briton should have a serious difference of opinion. The ideas of that sort of person upon matters which involve a difference of opinion are in such contrast to ours. The Vicomte performed the ceremony of introduction.
"Mr. Gerald Lovell, permit me to introduce
