I have but rested and washed off the stains of travel that I may lay my--ah!" He seemed to see us for the first time and negligently broke off in his compliment; raising himself and saluting us.

"Ah," he continued indolently, "two of the maidens of Caylus, I see.

With an odd pair of hands apiece, unless I am mistaken, Why do you not set them spinning, Mademoiselle ?" and he regarded us with that smile which--with other things as evil--had made him famous.
Croisette pulled horrible faces behind his back.

We looked hotly at him; but could find nothing to say.
"You grow red!" he went on, pleasantly--the wretch!--playing with us as a cat does with mice.

"It offends your dignity, perhaps, that I bid Mademoiselle set you spinning?
I now would spin at Mademoiselle's bidding, and think it happiness!" "We are not girls!" I blurted out, with the flush and tremor of a boy's passion.