harming," he continued. "The camel
species, the elephant-type, the cowlike ruminating specimen--milky
mother of the lowing herd, as an English poet has expressed it, and very
well, too--should"--he flung out one little hairy hand vehemently--"_go_
with the advance of corset-makers and civilization. She comes!"

The door had opened, and Charmian came in.

Instantly her eyes fastened on Madame Sennier.

She was so surprised that she stood still by the door, and her whole
face was suffused with blood. So much had this woman meant, did she
still mean in Charmian's life, that even the habit of the world did not
help Charmian to complete self-control at this moment.

"I'm afraid our coming has quite startled you," said Mrs. Shiffney.
"Didn't Susan tell you we were going to look in?"

"Yes, of course. I'm delighted!"

Charmian moved. She was secretly furious with herself.

Max Elliot took her hand, and Mrs. Shiffney carelessly introduced the
Senniers.

"What a dear little retreat you've found here, and how deliciously
you've arranged everything," she said. "You've made a perfect nest for
your genius. We are all longing to see him."

They were sitting now. Charmian was on a divan beside Madame Sennier.

"A clever man!" said Madame Sennier, decisively. "I met him once at the
opera. You remember, Jacques, I told you what he said about your
orchestration?"

"Yes, yes, about my use of the flutes in connection with muted strings
and the horns to give the effect of water."

"I want Monsieur Sennier to know him," said Mrs. Shiffney.

"I'm so sorry, but he's not here," said Charmian.

Just then Susan Fleet came in. Mrs. Shiffney turned to her.

"Susan! Such a disappointment! But, of course, you know!"

"About Mr. Heath? Yes."

"Has he gone back to England?" said Max Elliot.

"Oh, no. He's in Algeria."

Charmian obviously hesitated, saw that any want of frankness would seem
extraordinary, and added:

"He has gone to Constantine with a friend."

Her voice was reluctant.

"Do have some tea!" she added quickly, pulling the bell, which Pierre
promptly answered with the tea things.

"Constantine!" said Mrs. Shiffney. "That's no distance, only a night in
the train. Can't you persuade him to come back and see us? Do be a dear
and telegraph."

She spoke in her most airy way.

"I would in a minute. But he's not gone merely to amuse himself."

"The opera!" said Mrs. Shiffney. "By the way, is it indiscreet to ask