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For an hour or so the world seemed to have taken me for its center as smoothly as a sleeping top. Only after a good seven miles did my meditations begin to reveal any bitter in the sweet; but it was in recalling for the twentieth time the last sight of Camille, that I heard myself say, I know not whether softly or loudly,

"One too modest," I murmured, "to know her own portrait." I clutched the braid emotionally and let it go intending to retake it; but she dropped it behind her and said I was too imaginative to be safe.

"Oh!--good-bye, just anybody?" I asked; and thereupon she gathered up all her misplaced trust in me, all her maiden ignorance of what is in man, and all her sweet daring, to murmur--

"And yet you never take a lady's name for granted?"

"I shall count myself honored," said I, and we went, together and alone.

"Yes," I said, and handed her, as I dismounted, the General's gift, the pass.

"He told you?--Ah! you're only guessing," I said, and saw that I was helping her to guess more correctly.

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