Mergellina. Did you hear it? I do like it and the way he
sings it."

The annoyance had gone from her face at the thought of the song.

"And when he sings he looks so careless and gay. Did you listen?"

"Yes, for a moment, and then we went away. I think it was Emile who made
us go. He didn't want to disturb you, I think."

"I understand."

Vere's face softened. Again Hermione felt a creeping jealousy at her
heart. Vere had surely been annoyed with her, but now she knew that it
was Emile who had not wished to disturb the _tete-a-tete_ on the cliff
she did not mind. She even looked as if she were almost touched. Could
the mother be wrong where the mere friend was right? She felt, when Vere
spoke and her expression changed, the secret understanding from which
she was excluded.

"What is the matter, Madre?"

"The matter! Nothing. Why?"

"You looked so odd for a minute. I thought--"

But she did not express what she had thought, for Hermione interrupted
her by saying:

"We must get Emile to come for a long day. I wish you would write him
a note to-morrow morning, Vere. Write for me and ask him to come on
Thursday. I have a lot to do in the morning. Will you save me the
trouble?" She tried to speak, carelessly. "I've a long letter to send to
Evelyn Townley," she added.

"Of course, Madre. And I'll tell Monsieur Emile all I think of him for
neglecting us as he has. Ah! But I remember; he's been working."

"Yes, he's been working; and one must forgive everything to the worker,
mustn't one?"

"To such a worker as Monsieur Emile is, yes. I do wish you'd let me read
his books, Madre."

For a moment Hermione hesitated, looking at her child.

"Why are you so anxious to read them all of a sudden?" she asked.

"Well, I'm growing up and--and I understand things I used not to
understand."

Her eyes fell for a moment before her mother's, and there was a silence,
in which the mother felt some truth withheld. Vere looked up again.

"And I want to appreciate Monsieur Emile properly--as you do, Madre. It
seems almost ridiculous to know him so well, and not to know him really
at all."

"But you do know him really."

"I'm sure he puts most of his real self into his work."

Hermione remembered her conception of Emile Artois long ago, when she
only knew him through two books; that she had believed him to be cruel,
that she had thought her nature must be in opposition to his. Vere did
not know that side of "Monsieur Em