ly answered Ermentrude. She was furious at
this horrible, plain-spoken, jealous creature. Save her from herself--as
if ever she had wavered! The disinterested adoration she had entertained
for the great artist--what a hideous ending was this! The tall, blond
woman with the narrow, light blue eyes watched the girl. How could any
one call her handsome, Ermentrude wondered! Then her visitor noticed the
crumpled letter on the table. With a gesture of triumph she secured it
and smiling her superior smile she left, closing the door softly behind
her.

Only kissed hands are white! Ermentrude threw herself on the couch, her
cheeks burning, her heart tugging in her bosom like a ship impatient at
its anchorage. And was this the sordid end of a beautiful dream?...

"Do you know, dearest, we have had such news!" exclaimed Mrs. Sheldam as
she entered, and so charged with her happiness that she did not notice
the drawn features of her niece. "Charlie, Charlie will be here some
time next week. He arrives at Havre. He has just cabled his father. Let
us go down to meet the boy." Charlie was the only son of the Sheldams
and fonder of his cousin than she dare tell herself. She burst into
tears, which greatly pleased her aunt.

In the train, eight days later, Ermentrude sat speechless in company
with her aunt and uncle. But as the train approached Havre she
remembered something.

"Aunt Clara," she bravely asked, "do you recall the afternoon we spent
at the Keroulans'? What did Madame Keroulan tell you then? Is it a
secret?" She held tightly clenched in her hand the arm-rest at the side
of the compartment.

"Oh, dear, no! The madame was very chatty, very communicative. It's
funny I've not told you before. She confessed that she was the happiest
woman on earth; not only was she married to a grand genius,--for the
life of me I can't see where _that_ comes in!--but he was a good man
into the bargain. It appears that his life is made weary by women who
pester him with their attentions. Even our princess--yes, _the_
princess; isn't it shocking?--was a perfect nuisance until Mr. Keroulan
assured her that, though he owed much of his success in the world to
her, yet he would never betray the trust reposed in him by his wife.
What's the matter, dear, does the motion of the car affect you? It
_does_ rock! And _he_ shows her all the letters he gets from silly women
admirers--oh, these foreign women and their queer ways! And he tells her
the way