The little white slippers went up with her arms and touched his cheek.
And then he drew them down, and clasping her slender wrists, held her
out before him and looked at her with fond, smiling eyes.
"I don't believe that the Empress Josephine has any prettier slippers
than those," he said. "I ordered the prettiest and the finest in Paris."
"Who fetched all these things?" the judge broke in, with something like
a sudden realization of the number and the value of the gifts.
"Oh, a friend of mine," responded Philip Alston, carelessly, and without
turning his head,--"a friend who has many ships constantly going and
coming between New Orleans and France. He orders anything I wish; and
when it comes to him, he sends it on to me by the first flatboat
cordelled up the river."
"What is his name?" asked the judge, with a persistence very uncommon in
him.
Philip Alston turned now and glanced at him with an easy, almost
bantering smile.
"I don't like to tell you his name, because you--with a good many other
honestly mistaken people--are most unjustly prejudiced against him.
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