that I should never marry, but instead do something great in the world, though I had not yet decided what.  I explained it to him fully, so that there should be no more mistakes about it.  When I ended I did not venture to look at him for a long time, fearing to see him grieved at this irrevocable barrier; but when I did, what was my surprise to see his face beaming with joy!  He began impetuously, ’If you had told me I was to be crowned at Brussels, it would not be better news.  I was sure it was De Vezin who separated us.  Now I can hope.’

“’You must not talk in that way if you do not want our friendship to cease:  you offend me deeply.  Can’t you see that if you persist in this idea of yours, our pleasant acquaintance must end?’ It was so frivolous in Fred, and I spoke very decidedly.

    “’Not at all, Eleanor:  it would only begin.  Why should not our whole
    life be like this past year?’

    “‘You know it can’t,’ said I.  ‘Haven’t I told you the reason?’

    “‘It will be no reason when De Vezin asks you,’ said he
    suspiciously.

    “‘De Vezin is nothing to me.’

    “’You carry a gage d’amour from him on your watch-chain at this
    very minute.’

    “Now, wasn’t that talk silly?  De Vezin had brought me a two-centime
    piece one day because I said I had never seen one, and I put a hole
    in it and hung it to my chain.  Fred to call that a gage d’amour!

    “‘Nonsense!’ said I.

    “’De Vezin thought the same when he saw it there.  I took him for a
    fool, but I see he was right.’

    “‘Well, now you will see you were both fools,’ said I angrily, and I
    twisted off the coin and threw it from the window.

    “‘Is only that preposterous notion in the way?’ he asked, looking
    happy again and taking a seat by me.

“I told you how I cried on first entering the cars, and now—­would you believe it?—­I got terribly embarrassed.  It seemed as if everything I did or said made matters worse.  I was scarcely able to stammer, ‘My aunt—­’

    “’I will speak to her.  Let me put this on your finger until I can
    replace it by another:’  and he slipped off his seal and leaned
    forward with an entreating look.

    “I shook my head.

    “’I won’t ask you to promise anything:  only wear it that I may not
    be forgotten in Rome.’

“‘No, no, I cannot!’ I exclaimed, clasping my hands.  I suppose the action and tone were very exaggerated, for Mr. Kenderdine drew back, saying, ‘I shall not force you to take it;’ and then went to the other window, took a newspaper out of his pocket and pretended to read it, while I was angry and sorry and miserable, though why I should feel so much like crying at what had only amused me the day before I cannot understand.  I suppose