was ashamed of his vague suspicions.

The little carriage bowled swiftly across the great square behind which
wound the Rue Saint Ange, up one of the steep, picturesque streets which
lead from thence to the Luxembourg Gardens.

When they had gone some considerable way round the gay and stately
pleasance so dear to the poets and students of all nations, they suddenly
turned into the quaintest, quietest thoroughfare imaginable, carved out of
one of those old convent gardens which till lately were among the most
beautiful and characteristic features of the "Quartier."

An architect, who happened also to be an artist, had set up in this remote
and peaceful oasis his household gods, adding on this, his own domain, a
few studios with living rooms attached.

A broad, sanded path ran between the low picturesque buildings, and so the
carriage was obliged to draw up at the entrance to the Impasse.

Senator Burton looked up at the cabman: "Better not take off the lady's
trunk just yet," he said quickly in French, and though Nancy Dampier made
no demur, she looked surprised.

They began walking up the shaded path, for above the low walls on either
side sprang flowering shrubs and trees.

"What a charming place!" exclaimed the Senator, smiling down at her. "How
fond you and your husband must be of it!"

But his companion shook her head. "I've never been here," she said slowly.