in which he best liked to be paid for those gifts of his. But as he had said, they had already come to an understanding; so it did not so much matter. He quite understood what was passing in her mind, and changed the subject accordingly.
"Talking of scents and spices and apes, there are no end of sandal-wood things coming round by Gibraltar for you, and I left a monkey in charge of my servant at the Louvre in Paris. I picked him up from a lascar on board the Jumna, when I struck a boat-hook into his hide, and saved him from a watery grave. There was something in his eyes that reminded me of you, and so I bought him for the family likeness. I don't know how the resemblance may strike you; it is rather in the expression, perhaps, than in any regularity of features."
"Merci pour le compliment, mon père," said the young lady, curtseying gracefully; and when she ushered him into the sitting-room, all traces of emotion had disappeared, except perhaps for a slightly heightened complexion.
"Ah! mademoiselle then has found the physician my wife prayed her to see," remarked M. Robineau gallantly, after compliments of ceremony had been exchanged with the distinguished arrival. "And found her appetite again," he might have added; for at the inviting little supper which was quickly improvised, Grace kept her father very creditably in countenance. It was a pleasant meal, both to performers and lookers-on; nor did the party separate very early. Madame and her husband would have discreetly withdrawn, leaving the newly united relatives to their caresses and their confidences. But Moray would not hear of it. He thought his daughter had gone through enough in the way of emotion for the time, and fancied that the best preparation for sending her soundly to sleep would be to amuse and distract her in the meantime. M. Robineau, who was blessed with an inquiring mind, was ready enough to listen and ask leading questions. And Moray, when fairly warmed to the work, astounded the stay-at-home pastor with his stores of picturesque information. Grace had never seen her father figure to such advantage; and as she had a considerable opinion of M. Robineau's intellect, she revelled in that gentleman's respectful admiration.
"It was as if he had conjured up the spectacle or the farce, which our principles can never permit us," he observed to his wife in the retirement of their sleeping-chamber. "It was as a mélange of the travels of Marco Polo with the extravagances of M. Jules Verne. And what an air grand seigneur with it all, though his manners are as simple as his dress was slightly soigné. Ah, how cette chère Mees Grace ought to be happy!"
To which Madame, who had been scarcely less enthusiastic, sleepily but cordially assented. For Moray's frank face, and the dignified ease of his manner, as well as the modesty with which she touched on any personal adventures, were admirably fitted to ingratiate him with the ladies.
CHAPTER V. – COUSINLY AFFECTIONS.
When M. Robineau had bid adieu to the nabob and grand seigneur, he expressed even more unqualified admiration than on
