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 *tial pose, and showed vast elation and immense pleasure—which Madame Koller saw out of the corner of her eye.

Miles, sitting next Olivia, had grown confidential. "I—I—want to tell you," he said bashfully, "the reason why I didn't come to see you in Paris. It required some nerve for a fellow—in my condition—to face a woman—even the best and kindest."

"Was that it?" answered Olivia half smiling.

"You are laughing at me," he said reproachfully.

"Of course I am," replied Olivia.

A genuine look of relief stole into his poor face. Perhaps it was not so bad after all if Olivia Berkeley could laugh at his sensitiveness.

"So," continued Olivia, promptly, "you acted like a vain, foolish boy. But I see you are getting over it."

"I'll try. You wouldn't treat me so cavalierly, would you, if—if—it were quite—dreadful?"

"No, it isn't dreadful at all, or anything like it," replied Olivia, telling one of those generous and womanly fibs that all true women utter with the full approval of their consciences.

Meanwhile, Ahlberg and Pembroke had been conversing. Ahlberg was indeed a clever fellow—for he talked in a straightforward way, and gave not the slightest ground in anything he said for the suspicion that Pembroke obstinately cherished against him.

"What do you do with yourself all day, Miss Berkeley?" asked Pembroke after a while.