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D'RI AND I "If what?"

"If—if it tells a pretty story with some love in it," I said, with a quick sense of caution. "Ah, ma'm'selle, do I not know what has made your lips so red?"

"What may it be?"

"The attrition of many secrets—burning secrets," I said, laughing.

"Mordieu! what charming impudence!" said she, her large eyes glowing thoughtfully, with some look of surprise. "You do not know me, m'sieur. I have kept many secrets and know the trick."

"Ah, then I shall ask of you a great favor," said I—"that you keep my secret also, that you do not tell her of my love."

She wheeled her horse with a merry peal of laughter, hiding her face, now red as her glove.

"It is too late," said she, "I have written her."

We rode on, laughing. In spite of the serious character of her words, I fell a-quaking from crown to stirrup. I was now engaged to Louison, or as good as that, and, being a