n in his chair, making it creak with his substantial
weight.

"I don't know. If my husband is happy here. But he prefers the
solitudes, I think."

"Does he? And yet he's gone into the city. Plenty of bustle there at
night, I can tell you. Well, now, I don't agree with your husband. I
know it's been said that solitude is good for the sad, but I think just
the contrary. Ah!"

The last sonorously joyous exclamation jumped out of Father Beret at the
sight of Ouardi, who at this moment entered with a large tray, covered
with a coffee-pot, cups, biscuits, bon-bons, cigars, and a bulging flask
of some liqueur flanked by little glasses.

"You fare generously in the desert I see, Madame," he exclaimed. "And so
much the better. What's your servant's name?"

Domini told him.

"Ouardi! that means born in the time of the roses." He addressed Ouardi
in Arabic and sent him off into the darkness chuckling gaily. "These
Arab names all have their meanings--Onlagareb, mother of scorpions,
Omteoni, mother of eagles, and so on. So much the better! Comforts are
rare here, but you carry them with you. Sugar, if you please."

Domini put two lumps into his cup.

"If you allow me!"

He added two more.

"I never refuse a good cigar. These harmless joys are excellent for
man. They help his Christianity. They keep him from bitterness, harsh
judgments. But harshness is for northern climes--rainy England, eh?
Forgive me, Madame. I speak in joke. You come from England perhaps. It
didn't occur to me that--"

They both laughed. His garrulity was irresistible and made Domini feel
as if she were sitting with a child. Perhaps he caught her feeling, for
he added:

"The desert has made me an _enfant terrible_, I fear. What have you
there?"

His eyes had been attracted by the flask of liqueur, to which Domini was
stretching out her hand with the intention of giving him some.

"I don't know."

She leaned forward to read the name on the flask.

"L o u a r i n e," she said.

"Pst!" exclaimed the priest, with a start.

"Will you have some? I don't know whether it's good. I've never tasted
it, or seen it before. Will you have some?"

She felt so absolutely certain that he would say "Yes" that she lifted
the flask to pour the liqueur into one of the little glasses, but,
looking at him, she saw that he hesitated.

"After all--why not?" he ejaculated. "Why not?"

She was holding the flask over the glass. He saw that his remark
surprised