tlessly
destroying it, she stuck the pieces in her hair. Not content with this,
she also put bits behind Maurice's ears, and tried to twist one in the
piece of hair that fell on his forehead. Having thus bedizened them,
she leaned back, and, with her hands clasped behind her head, began to
tease the young man. A little bird, it seemed, had whispered her any
number of interesting things about Madeleine and Maurice, and she had
stored them all up. Now, she repeated them, with a charming
impertinence, and was so provoking that, in laughing exasperation,
Maurice took her fluffy, flower-bedecked head between his hands, and
stopped her lips with two sound kisses.

He acted impulsively, without reflecting, but, as soon as it was done,
he felt a curious sense of satisfaction, which had nothing to do with
Ephie, and was like a kind of unconscious revenge taken on some one
else. He was not, however, prepared for the effect of his hasty deed.
Ephie turned scarlet, and jumping up from the sofa, so that all the
blossoms fell from her hair at once, stamped her foot.

"Maurice Guest! How dare you!" she cried angrily, and, to his surprise,
the young man saw that she had tears in her eyes.

He had never known Ephie to be even annoyed, and was consequently
dumfounded; he could not believe, after the direct provocation she had
given him, that his crime had been so great.

"But Ephie dear!" he protested. "I had no idea, upon my word I hadn't,
that you would take it like this. What's the matter? It was nothing.
Don't cry. I'm a brute."

"Yes, you are, a horrid brute! I shall never forgive you--never!" said
Ephie, and then she began to cry in earnest.

He put his arm round her, and coaxing her to sit down, wiped away her
tears with his own handkerchief. In vain did he beg her to tell him why
she was so vexed. To all he said, she only shook her head, and
answered: "You had no right to do it."

He vowed solemnly that it should never happen again, but at least a
quarter of an hour elapsed before he succeeded in comforting her, and
even then, she remained more subdued than usual. But when Maurice had
gone, and she had dropped the scattered sprays of lilac out of the
window on his head, she clasped her hands at the back of her neck, and
dropped a curtsy to herself in the locking-glass.

"Him, too!" she said aloud.

She nodded at her reflected self, but her face was grave; for between
these two, small, blue-robed figures was a deep and