often noticed that people who can make fools of others, invariably, at some time in their lives, make fools of themselves."
"I did," answered Mr. Romaine, sententiously. "But I tell you, once for all, not a penny will I pay."
"Ah, my dear M. Romaine, that is not for you to say. These breach-of-promise cases sometimes turn out very badly for the gentlemen. I can so easily prove my position, my respectability—the way you pursued me from London to Brighton, from Brighton to Folkestone, from Folkestone to Eastbourne—and these invaluable and delightful letters. It will be a cause célèbre—that you may depend upon. And what a figure you will cut! The New York papers will have a column a day—the London papers two columns. By the way, I hear you have leased a fine house at Prince's Gate for the season. You will have to give up that lease, my friend—you will not dare to show your face in London this season, M. Romaine."
All this time Madame de Fonblanque had been laughing, as if it were a very good joke; but she now became serious.
"There is a tragic side to it," she continued,
