so calling Marie to keep me company, we went upstairs to that cosy little apartment.

I had a long evening before me and the prospect was not a lively one. I could not feel at home in Tavistock Villa, which a few hours ago I had never even seen. It seemed to me that Arthur ought to have stayed with me, no matter what sacrifice he made. I knew very little about brides and bridegrooms beyond what I had read in novels, nine-tenths of which either ended with a couples' engagement, or began, in early married life.

I went to the drawing-room and tried the piano, but somehow I could derive no amusement from it. I glanced at a couple of books, but their unreality disgusted me. The heroine in one of them was sentimental to idiocy, with a flower-like face and violet eyes, while the principal character in the other was a hoyden with whom I could find no sympathy. I went back to my boudoir. It was delightfully comfortable. I installed myself in an easy-chair, made Marie sit opposite, poor girl, and then closed my eyes.

"Is it that Madame is recently married?"