Vera went to old Pierre DuprÉ's fencing establishment with her cousin, Henri d'Estreville. She was anxious to see these two young women of whom Paris talked, though she felt that the exhibition of their skill would probably displease her. In this respect she soon found that she was mistaken. Old DuprÉ's pride in his daughters amused her, and the girls themselves, especially Louise, greatly attracted her.

Paul de Tourelle undertook to fence a bout with Marie, the eldest girl, an undertaking which he found considerably less of a walk over than he had expected. He held his own, certainly, but was obliged to put forth more effort into his work than he had expected to be called upon to display. At the call of time he was a point or two to the good, but he ended, surprised and a little mortified that he should have been compelled to extend himself in order to obtain this result.

During the bout with her sister Louise sat beside Vera and conversed with her, while the Baron, who glanced constantly in her direction, stood with DuprÉ and his assistants at the edge of the arena. Louise displayed no shyness; indeed she plied Vera with questions some of which Vera found rather embarrassing. Many of them referred to the Baron, whose name Louise mentioned with a certain hesitation. He was a soldier? and had fought in the wars with the Emperor? He must be a favourite with men—and, oh yes, this undoubtedly, with the ladies!

And Mademoiselle herself, she moved in the great world—ah, it must be pleasant to have the entrÉe there! Mademoiselle was doubtless fiancÉe? Vera admitted, laughing, that this was so and yet not so, a reply which puzzled her companion not a little.

Louise reflected. "Ah, Mademoiselle," she said, "perhaps I have solved the conundrum—Mademoiselle is betrothed to her cousin, Monsieur le Baron; but betrothals to cousins, as all the world knows, are not to be accounted as serious contracts; they are made for the convenience of both, but are not intended to be regarded seriously?" Louise gazed so intently in Vera's eyes as she put forward this suggestion that Vera was too surprised to laugh as she had at first felt inclined to do.

"My cousin?" she said; "Mon Dieu, no; the Baron is not of the kind to take the trouble to be fiancÉ for considerations of convenience."

"The Baron is not then betrothed to Mademoiselle?" murmured Louise, and presently she began to speak of the fencing, no longer interested—as it appeared to Vera—in the conundrum with regard to Mademoiselle's betrothal.

Which very naÏve conversation went to convince Vera that howsoever gifted the fair Louise might be in the manly attribute of fencing, there was still much of the woman remaining in her composition. She watched Louise somewhat carefully after this, anxious to learn more as to her interest in Henri's affairs, when it was easy to perceive that though obviously avoiding the Baron, doubtless for reasons of her own, the girl's eyes constantly turned in the direction of her cousin.

"Poor little Louise!" thought Vera. "Henri of all people!"

Afterwards she sought an opportunity to add a word of warning.

"My cousin D'Estreville, to whom you suspected me of being engaged," she said, laughing, "is not one I would trust with my heart. He is the same to all women, implying much but meaning nothing. He is par excellence a soldier. Women are—for him—toys to be played with in time of peace. Henri is not one to bind himself; he takes his amusement where he finds it."

"All men that I have seen are like that," said Louise unexpectedly; "yet I believe that it comes to each man once in his life to take a woman seriously."

"Come, Louise," old Pierre called out at this point, "Monsieur has kindly consented to exhibit to us a second time his wonderful skill with the foils; you will find Louise a fair exponent, Monsieur, though she has never yet measured swords with one of your exceptional gifts."

"If she is as clever as her sister," said Paul gallantly, "she must be skilful indeed. I offer you my compliments upon your daughters, Monsieur DuprÉ, they are indeed a credit to their teacher."

"Ah, Monsieur, if they were but of the sex!" cried old Pierre; "but there—it is not their fault—I have bewailed it all their lives, but it is not their fault."

Paul, in his bout with Louise, was at first amused to find that he was getting the worst of it. Presently, as she added point to point, his amusement turned to disgust and presently he grew a little angry. When Paul reached this stage, in a fencing bout, he generally became invincible; and during the latter portion of the set-to his score rapidly improved. Nevertheless, when time was called it was found that Louise had won upon a point. Old DuprÉ clapped his hands in unfeigned delight, apologising immediately after for his rudeness.

"I also crave permission to applaud," said Paul; "Mademoiselle is magnificent. Several times she took me unawares in a manner that I thought impossible of any swordsman in Paris. If Mademoiselle is not tired, I should be grateful to try conclusions once more when she is rested; while she rests there are one or two points in our bout which I should like to think over."

"Oh—ah!" cried old Pierre delighted. "Monsieur refers I think to the feint flanconnade—the feint flanconnade DuprÉ we call it; it is a trick of my invention, Monsieur; twice I observed she scored by it! yes, it is subtle, Monsieur, and found by my daughters and by our pupils to be most exceptionally successful. It is a compliment that Monsieur takes notice of these little things."

"It is owing to these 'little things' that I find myself vanquished by Mademoiselle," Paul laughed good-naturedly. "I will consider these points for five minutes with Mademoiselle's permission."

During the interval old DuprÉ conversed with Vera Demidof, explaining to her how hard it had been for a parent longing for boys to find himself saddled with girls; how his daughters had, however, done their very best to atone for the "mischance" by growing up—as he had thought—superior to the weaknesses of their sex; and how he had been rudely brought up by the horrible discovery that Marie had fallen in love with his assistant and desired to marry him forthwith.

"Imagine my grief, Mademoiselle," old Pierre mourned; "so promising a swordswoman, so great a help and comfort to me, and pouff! she is married and her usefulness is gone! All that is man in her is gone also!"

Vera could not help laughing.

"You still have Louise!" she said, doing her best to say something comforting.

"Bah! she has seen her sister's deterioration and she will follow her example; it is infectious, like measles! already I perceive——"

What old Pierre was about to say remained uncertain, for at this moment Henri d'Estreville joined the group.

"There is war in the air, DuprÉ, have you heard?" he said. "The conscription papers are out. Young Havet had better be quick and get his wedding over or he may find himself in Moscow before he realises that he is a soldier."

"Ah—would to Heaven they had taken him before this foolery began!" said old Pierre. "Now I know not what is best; the evil is done; I do not approve of Marie's foolishness, yet I would not have her heart broken—for imagine, Monsieur le Baron, so false has become her estimate of the proportions that she would rather marry this young man than see him enrolled among the heroes of his country. Surely the object of love is the happiness and the well-being of the beloved? Compare then: to be a soldier of the Grande ArmÉe, or to sit at home to lose manhood in the endearments of a foolish woman! Yet, knowing of the conscription, she would marry him to-morrow."

Old Pierre was almost in tears, so deeply did he feel the bitterness of the blow. That his daughters were women, was bad enough. That they should at length show a desire to behave as women was a grievance indeed!

"Be comforted, Monsieur," said Henri, smiling, "Havet is not yet chosen; if he should be so presently, allow me to suggest the very simplest solution of the difficulty. Let Mademoiselle Marie enlist also, thus no hearts shall be broken, and the Emperor gains a soldier better, I'll be bound, worth the having than half the six hundred thousand he intends to raise, if report speaks truly."

"Monsieur le Baron is pleased to jest," said Pierre; "yet it is true that Marie would make a good soldier; it is but three years, Monsieur, since my daughters exchanged the convenient garb of our sex for the foolish habiliments of that to which unfortunately they belong."

"So I have heard," said the Baron, "otherwise I should not have presumed, Monsieur, to make the suggestion which was not, be assured, altogether a jest."

"Was it not, Monsieur?" exclaimed Pierre, looking thoughtful. "Why then I will mention it to Marie; there is no knowing how the suggestion may strike her; assuredly she would pass as well for a man as the majority of the silly, half-grown youths that the conscription will catch. Splendeur des Cieux, Monsieur, it is a good idea. The glory of having, after all, a child of my own to serve with the colours! It is an ambition which I resigned with tears at the birth of my little Louise!"

"See, your little Louise, who is quite as big as our friend Paul," the Baron laughed, "is about to play her second bout with my redoubtable De Tourelle. Try again your feint flanconnade DuprÉ, Mademoiselle Louise; only be prepared this time for a subtle riposte! When Monsieur de Tourelle has devoted five minutes to the consideration of his play, be sure the time has not been wasted!"

Louise blushed and lowered her eyes when spoken to by the Baron, a circumstance which more than one pair of eyes observed.

"Louise has several subtle tricks with which Monsieur may not yet be acquainted," said old Pierre, flushed now and excited with the prospect of a second exhibition of his daughter's splendid skill. "Though I am the first to admit that she has found more than her match, for once, in Monsieur de Tourelle."

Paul's five minutes had not been wasted, as he quickly showed. For though Louise made a great bid for victory and was, indeed, never more than a point or two behind, De Tourelle was a trifle the better, and ending with a beautifully executed "time in octave" finished the leader by two points.

"I shall consider seriously your suggestion, Monsieur," said old Pierre at parting with Henri d'Estreville; "the more I think of it the more I perceive that if only Marie would think well of the matter there is much to commend it."

"But you would lose two capable assistants, Monsieur le Major, as well as the comfort of a daughter's presence," said Henri, somewhat ashamed of having set the old man yelping upon so foolish a scent.

"Bah! all the world will be at the war, there will be few to take fencing lessons for the while. Louise and the other younker will suffice for all the pupils we shall get in war-time! Monsieur le Baron will himself be absent among the rest, I doubt not?"

"Mon Dieu, let us hope so!" Henri laughed. "Where else? Eh bien, au revoir, Monsieur, and au revoir, maybe, to Mademoiselle Marie in Moscow." Henri departed, laughing merrily. Louise had turned away with her flushed face a shade or two the paler for Henri's last speech, therefore she did not catch the amorous look which the Baron thought fit to send in her direction as he quitted the arena.