“He was in this room with a story that should interest you—you, perhaps, more than any other person,” said her father drily. “At the masquerade Lord Courtenay chanced to meet a certain lady.”
“I was hoping that he would.”
“A lady whose true name he has never been able to learn.”
“Her reticence on that point is a high tribute to his sense of virtue. She knows very well that on his hearing it he would have no more to do with her.”
“What! you know this lady?”
“My enemy. Siberia would now be my home could she have her way.”
“Who is she?”
“That’s a surprise I’ll keep in reserve. You shall learn by and by. Continue your story, mon père.”
“Do you know that this lady is loved by Alexander?”
“You should put that remark in the past tense,” said Pauline with an odd smile.