'Yes,' answered Uffington; 'and, so far as I can see, for some little time.'

'I shall have the pleasure, then, of seeing you again, I hope. For the present au revoir.' And Lord Forestfield sauntered away into his brougham, which just then drove up to the door.

He could not tell where he had seen Uffington, and yet he had some faint recollection of him. Not a pleasant recollection either, as it seemed to him, but one to which he could assign no particulars. He was very much pleased on the whole that he had been addressed, for such an experience was rare with him nowadays, and Uffington was a man who, although he had been for a long time away from England, and was looked upon as somewhat rococo and bygone, was yet a member of some of the best clubs, and had been in his early days, so Lord Forestfield had heard, very highly thought of in society.

Uffington saw no more of his newly-formed acquaintance that day, but strolling in the evening into the Cirque d'Eté in the Champs Elysées, he saw the British milord in the middle of a large party of French people in the best seats in the house. There was a flush on Lord Forestfield's face, and an empressement in his manner towards his next neighbour, a very handsome woman, which made Uffington suspect that he had been drinking freely. This was quite a new phase in Forestfield, whom Uffington had always heard described as of a cold, phlegmatic, cynical character; but as it chimed in well with his purpose he was not displeased to remark it. Uffington left the Cirque before the performance was over, and strolled to his hotel. On arrival, he received from the porter a note from Lord Forestfield requesting the pleasure of his company at breakfast at Bignon's the next day at one o'clock.

He went, and the breakfast was excellent. The other guests were three Frenchmen, well-dressed, decorés, pleasant-mannered, and, so far as is possible with Frenchmen, convivial persons. No other Englishman was present. The conversation was of the kind usual when such men are gathered together. In it Lord Forestfield took the lead, and Uffington was astonished to find that his host, who in England had the character of being very reticent, here told stories which were remarkable for their breadth as well as their length, and seemed to be looked upon by his convives as a table-wit of the first order. No doubt the excellency of Bignon's cellar contributed to this result. So much wine was consumed that if Uffington's head had not been casehardened, he must have felt its effect. As it was, the deep red flush stood in Lord Forestfield's cheeks, and there was a thickness in is speech as, at the close of the repast, while they were finishing their cigars, he said to his companion, 'You are here en garçon, I suppose?'

'O yes,' said Uffington, with a laugh, 'here and everywhere else--I have no ties.'

'So much the better,' said Forestfield, frowning heavily; 'they are infernal things, and I, at least, have reason for saying so. However, that is neither here nor there. I must go now, but if you like to come to-night to 240 Avenue Marigny, I will introduce you to some friends of mine, and show you some life.'

'Good,' said Uffington; 'you may depend upon it, I will be there.'

[CHAPTER XIII.]

IN THE AVENUE MARIGNY.