“ My darling !” Harcourt piotested sooth ingly, “ hut I didn’t know. I thought you liked such things. I wanted to give you some sort of a remembrance. What cun 1 get that will please you ? ’ “ Will you give me whatever I choose ?’ asked Lady Nicotine, with as near an approach’ to shyness as she had ever experienced. “ Why, of course, I will, little girl.”

“ I want a portrait of you. Not a photograph,” quickly, as Harcourt made a motion towards the centre table, wherton rested a largo cabinet photo of himself in a superb silver frame. “ I want a miniature, a painting on ivory like those you showed me the other day.” “ Very well, you shall have a miniature of me, but it will not be ready in time for Christ mas.” <• Then you shall give me your working palette with the colours smeared on just as you showed it to me in .your studio Inst week. I don’t know of anything else that you have handled so tenderly and lovingly as that palette. I will fasten it on the wall of my dressing room, where it will always speak to me of your dear self, and your beloved ait." “ Precious one !” Harcourt murmured, touched by her evident depth of sincerity. “ Now you shall light me mother cigarette,’’ she ended. “ I must have been wonderfully excited, for I lost ray last one, and it was only half smoked.” Harcourt was as good as his word, and in due time Lady Nicotine received an exquisite minia ture of her lover executed by a noted artist. It was about a year from the date of the com mencement of Harcourt’s infatuation, and his wedding to Miss Greysou had twice been post poned, when he awoke one day to the fact that the haunting black eyes were not as haunting as they had been. lie was no longer intoxicated by Lady Nico tine’s presence, and once or twice lately when he kissed her he experienced the slightest possible sensation of repulsion at the smoke on her breath.
