"'Yes. In England we listen for a long time to young men before deciding. In France you have to say yes or no at once, when you are not sure.'
"As an unpleasant effect of these confidences, I realized that Mlle. de Sézery, to whom I had not given a thought in nine years, had required but two days to awaken my deepest interest. I was pleased to find the other couple waiting at the entrance to the hall, but I pretended to be particularly interested in Miss Pearson's conversation.
"This tournament—a championship encounter of cavalry, of batteries of artillery and then of marine artillery, was an illustration of English imperialism. Olympia holds ten thousand spectators. It was crowded. Hurrahs welcomed the conquerors. The sailors aroused especial enthusiasm. An immense pride stirred this crowd, when the military bands, the royal Guards in their red coats and enormous busbies—and the bare-legged Scots in kilts passed by. The bagpipes recalled melancholy countries and legends, but the piercing fifes shook my nerves like Rudyard Kipling's stories. They could be heard above the noise of the drums, upon which the drumsticks beat so violently as almost to burst them.
"The exhibition of a tournament of the Tudors' time was too much for us, and we went to have tea with Mlle. de Sézery. I invited the ladies to come to Paris. They graciously promised that they might come, and that was our last word. M. Portal took me home and proposed to show me Piccadilly at night, but I was eager to be alone to write up an account of the day's doings."
"May 6th: At sea. I watched the coast of Dover as long as I could see its sand hills and forts."
"May—still: I am more content at home. I expect nothing, but my thoughts are definitely focussed."
"June 12th: No other woman has her walk, graceful and languid, nor her almond-shaped eyes, with their golden glints, nor the modulating inflection of her voice. When I walk in Paris, I cannot mistake any passer-by for her. This evening I was crossing the Luxembourg garden; as I followed the terrace overlooking the Medicis Fountain, I was surprised to recognize her, and in my astonishment, was allowing her to pass, when she stopped, and blushing, held out her hand:
"'I am pleased to see you again.'
"'You here, Mademoiselle? You were coming to see us perhaps? The Rue Bara is quite near.'
"I noticed that she was in mourning.