Lady Anne came gayly down to the street a few minutes later. She was still wearing the plain black gown and the simplest of hats. Nevertheless, she looked charming. Her fresh complexion with its slight touch of sunburn, her wealth of brown hair, and the distinction of her carriage, made her everywhere an object of admiration in a city where the prevailing type of beauty was so different.

"Poor mother!" she exclaimed, as they crossed the Place de l'OpÉra.
"Tell me, was she very theatrical this morning, Julien?"

Julien smiled.

"I am afraid I must admit that she was," he declared. "I found her very interesting."

"I hate to talk about her," Anne continued, "it makes one feel so unfilial, but really she is the most wonderful marionette that ever lived the perfect life. You see, I have been behind the scenes so long. Every now and then a little of the woman's nature crops up. Her cut to Mrs. Carraby, for instance, was quite one of the events of the season. It was so perfectly administered, so utterly scathing. I hear that the poor creature went to bed for a fortnight afterwards. Gracious, I hope I am not distressing you, Julien!" she added hastily.

"Not in the least," Julien assured her grimly. "I have no interest in
Mrs. Carraby."

Lady Anne sighed.

"That's how you men talk when your little feeling has evaporated. Julien, you're a selfish crowd! You make the world a very difficult place for a woman."

"I think," he said, "that your sex avenges itself.'

"I am not sure," she replied. "Men so often place the burden of their own follies upon a woman's shoulders."

"You rebuke me rightly," Julien declared bitterly.

"I was not thinking of you," she told him reproachfully. "I am sorry,
Julien. I should not have said that."

"It was the truth," he confessed, "absolutely the truth. Still, I have never blamed Mrs. Carraby for my disasters. It was my own asinine simplicity. Tell me, when shall I see you again? I think I ought to leave you here."

She laughed.

"You want to know about my interview with mother? Well, you shall know all about that, I promise you, because I have changed my mind. I intend to make you an auditor. Don't desert me, Julien, please. Remember, this is really a trying moment for me. I have to face an irate and obstinate parent. If friendship is worth anything, come and help me."

"I can't help thinking," he objected, "that your mother would rather talk to you alone."

"Then you will please to consider me and not my mother," Anne insisted, as they drew up before the door of the hotel. "I wish you to remain."

The Duchess received them perfectly. She did not attempt anything emotional. She simply held out both her hands a little apart.

"You dear, sensible people!" she cried. "Anne, how dared you give us such a shock!"

Anne leaned over and kissed her mother.

"Mother," she announced, "I am not going to marry Julien."

The Duchess started. The expression which flashed from her eyes was unmistakably genuine.

"Don't talk nonsense, Anne!" she exclaimed sharply.

"No nonsense about it," Anne retorted. "I can't bear to talk when any one is standing up. Sit down, and in a few sentences I'll let you know how hopeless it all is."

There was real fear in the Duchess's eyes.

"Anne," she gasped, "is there a man, then?"

"You idiotic person, of course there isn't!" Anne replied. "Why on earth you should all talk about a man directly a girl breaks away for a time, I can't imagine. Now sit down there and listen. I brought Julien along because if you bully me too much I shall make him take me away. We are excellent friends, Julien and I, and he has been very kind to me since I came here; but I met him entirely by accident, and if I hadn't I am quite sure that we might have lived here for years and never come across one another."

"But I have told every one in London!" the Duchess protested. "I have explained everything! I have told them how you always loved Julien, what a terrible blow his troubles were, and how you suddenly found that it was impossible for you to marry any other man, and like a dear, romantic child that you are you ran away to him."

"Yes," Lady Anne said dryly, "that's a very pretty story! That's just what I imagined you would tell everybody when you knew that I'd come here. That is just," she continued slowly, "what you have been rubbing into poor Julien this morning before he came to see me. Very well, mother, up to a certain point it came off, you see. Julien called most dutifully, found me sitting in an attic—'attic' is the correct word, isn't it?—and made his declaration. No, I don't think he declared anything, on second thoughts! He effectually concealed any feelings he might have had. It was a suggestion which he made."

"My manner of expressing myself," Julien began a little stiffly—

"Your manner of expressing yourself was perfect," Anne interrupted. "It was a great deal too perfect, my preux chevalier. Only you see, Julien, only you see, mother, Julien offered me exactly what I left home to escape from. I have come to the conclusion," she went on, smoothing her skirt about her knees, "that it is most indecent and wholly improper even to think of marrying a man who does not love you and whom you do not love."

The Duchess closed her eyes.

"Anne, what have you been reading?" she murmured.

"Not a thing," Anne went on. "I never did read half enough. I'm simply acting by instinct. Julien and I were engaged for three months and at the end of that time we were complete strangers. The idea of marrying a stranger was not attractive to me. Let that go. Julien went. Along came Samuel—"

"We will not talk about Mr. Harbord," the Duchess interposed hastily.

"Oh, yes, we will! Now so far as Julien was concerned," Anne continued, "I dare say I should have smothered my feelings because there is nothing revolting about him. He is quite an attractive person, and physically everything to be desired. But when it came to a man who was not a gentleman, whose manners were odious, who offended my taste every time he opened his mouth—why, you see, the thing couldn't be thought of! Day by day it got worse. Towards the end he began to try and put his hands on me. That made me think. That's why I came to Paris."

"Anne," the Duchess declared severely, "you are indecent!"

"On the contrary," Anne insisted, "I think it was the most decent thing I ever did. Now please listen. I will not come back to England, I will not marry Julien, I will not think of or discuss the subject of marriage with any one. I am a free person and I haven't the least intention of spending my life moping. I am going to have a pleasant time and I am going to have it in my own way. You have two other daughters, mother—Violet and Lucy. Unless they change, they are exactly what you would have them. Be satisfied. Devote your energies to them and count me a black sheep. You can make me a little allowance, if you like—a hundred a year or so—but whether I have it or not, I am either going to make bows in Mademoiselle Rignaut's workshop, or I am going to be secretary to a very delightful lady—a Mrs. Christophor, or something of the sort."

The Duchess rose—she had an idea that she was more dignified standing.

"Anne," she said, "I am your mother. Not only that, but I ask you to remember who you are. The women of England look for an example to us. They look to us to live regular and law-abiding lives, to be dutiful wives and mothers. You are behaving like a creature from an altogether different world. You speak openly of things I have never permitted mentioned. I ask you to reflect. Do you owe nothing to me? Do you owe nothing to your father, to our position?"

"A great deal, mother," Anne replied, "but I owe more to myself than to any one else in the world."

The Duchess felt hopeless. She looked toward Julien.

"There is so much of this foolish sort of talk about," she complained. "It all comes of making friends with socialists and labor people, and having such terrible nonsense printed in the reviews. What are we to do, Julien? Can't you persuade Anne? I am sure that she is really fond of you."

"I wouldn't attempt to influence her for a single moment," Julien declared. "I won't say whether I think she is right or wrong. On the whole, I am inclined to think that she is right."

"You, too, desert me!" the Duchess exclaimed.

"Well, it all depends upon one's conception of happiness, of course,"
Julien replied, "but so far as I am concerned, let me tell you that the
idea of a girl like Anne married to an insufferable bounder like
Harbord, just because he's got millions of money, simply made me boil."

Anne, for some reason or other, was looking quite pleased.

"I am so glad to know you felt like that, Julien. It's really the nicest thing you've said to me all the morning. Well, that's over now. Mother, why don't you give us some lunch and take the four o'clock train back? It's the Calais train, which I know you always prefer."

The Duchess reflected for a moment. There were advantages in lunching at the Ritz with Julien on one side of her and Anne on the other. She gave a little sigh and consented.