Nature had made a mistake in their formation. To the great lady she had given a heart vile and venal; to the SOUBRETTE she had given the heart of a duchess.

At ten o’clock Milady began to appear restless. D’Artagnan knew what she wanted. She looked at the clock, rose, reseated herself, smiled at d’Artagnan with an air which said, “You are very amiable, no doubt, but you would be charming if you would only depart.”

D’Artagnan rose and took his hat; Milady gave him her hand to kiss. The young man felt her press his hand, and comprehended that this was a sentiment, not of coquetry, but of gratitude because of his departure.

“She loves him devilishly,” he murmured. Then he went out.