“But perhaps you will favour me with a visit, and we may on further conversation find that you are not mistaken. I can’t stay now, for I am engaged to dance with the Belgian of whom, no doubt, M. Lemercier has told you.”
“No, Madame, he has not.”
“Well, then, he will tell you. The Belgian is very jealous; but I am always at home between three and four; this is my card.”
Graham eagerly took the card, and exclaimed, “Is this you’re your own handwriting, Madame?”
“Yes, indeed.”
“Tres belle ecriture,” said Graham, and receded with a ceremonious bow. “Anything so unlike her handwriting! Another disappointment,” muttered the Englishman as the lady went back to the ball.
A few minutes later Graham joined Lemercier, who was talking with De Passy and De Breze.
“Well,” said Lemercier, when his eye rested on Graham, “I hit the right nail on the head this time, eh?”
Graham shook his head.
“What! is she not the right Louise Duval?”