“A noble end,” said Margaret, scornfully.  “What a proud race we Americans are!” Barker sighed skilfully and looked reproachfully at Margaret.

“Poor chap!” he ejaculated, “I saw him die.  And that night,” continued Mr. Barker, with a mournful impressiveness, “I determined that the woman who had caused so much unhappiness should be made to know what unhappiness is.  I made up my mind that she should suffer what my friend had suffered.  I knew her very well,—­in fact she was a distant connection; so I went to her at a ball at the Van Sueindells’.  I had engaged her to dance the German[2], and had sent her some very handsome roses.  I had laid my plan already, and after a little chaff and a few turns I challenged her to a set flirtation.  ‘Let us swear,’ I said, ’to be honest, and let us make a bet of a dozen pairs of gloves.  If one of us really falls in love, he or she must acknowledge it and pay the gloves.’  It was agreed, for she was in great spirits that night, and laughed at the idea that she could ever fall in love with me—­poor me! who have so little that is attractive.  At first she thought it was only a joke, but as I began to visit her regularly and to go through all the formalities of love-making, she became interested.  We were soon the talk of the town, and everybody said we were going to be married.  Still the engagement did not come out, and people waited, open-mouthed, wondering what next.  At last I thought I was safe, and so, the first chance I had at a party in Newport, I made a dead set at a new beauty just arrived from the South—­I forget where.  The other—­the one with whom I was betting—­was there, and I watched her.  She lost her temper completely, and turned all sorts of colours.  Then I knew I had won, and so I went back to her and talked to her for the rest of the evening, explaining that the other young lady was a sister of a very dear friend of mine.

[Footnote 2:  American for the cotillon.]

“The next day I called on my beauty, and throwing myself at her feet, I declared myself vanquished.  The result was just as I expected.  She burst into tears and put her arms round my neck, and said it was she who lost, for she really loved me though she had been too proud to acknowledge it.  Then I calmly rose and laughed.  ’I do not care for you in the least,’ I said; ’I only said so to make you speak.  I have won the gloves.’  She broke down completely, and went abroad a few days afterwards.  And so I avenged my friend.”

There was a pause when Barker had finished his tale.  He sipped his tea, and Margaret rose slowly and went to the window.

“Don’t you think that is a very good story, Countess?” he asked.  “Don’t you think I was quite right?” Still no answer.  Margaret rang the bell, and old Vladimir appeared.