’ ‘I think you—’ He broke off abruptly, astonished at what he had been about to say. ’ ‘Militia, miss,’ Kimble corrected her. You used to beg me for hours at a time to give it all up, never to go near the ‘Ambassador’s’ again. Besides ——” She stopped short. Cathy threw Mike a look. She had a horrible glimpse of the once nice little old lady being also borne stationward, still faintly battling and very muddy—one lock of grayish hair straggling over her neck, her face scared, white, but triumphant. At the door through which she had entered the room stood the so-called Monsieur Valade. Sheppard's dress—extremely neat and clean, but simply fashioned, and of the plainest and most unpretending material,—offered nothing assailable; and her demeanour was so humble, and her looks so modest, that—if she had been ill-looking—she might, possibly, have escaped the shafts of malice preparing to be levelled against her. She made a few protests, a few excuses for her action in accepting him, a few lame explanations, but he did not heed them or care for them.
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