uch talent as your husband."

With a rapid movement he put one hand to the back of his neck and softly
rubbed his little roll of white flesh.

"He has an instinct for orchestration such as I have found in no one
else. Now, for example--"

He flung himself into depths of orchestral knowledge, dragging Charmian
with him. She was happily engulfed. When they emerged in about half an
hour's time she again threw out a lure for general praise.

"Then you really admire the opera as a whole? You think it undoubtedly
fine, don't you?"

Jernington wiped his perspiring face, his forehead, and, finally, his
whole head and neck, manipulating the huge handkerchief in a masterly
manner almost worthy of an expensive conjurer.

"It is superb. When it is given, when the world knows that the great
Heath studied with me--well, I shall have to take a studio as large as
the Albert Hall, there will be such a rush of pupils. Do you know that
his employment of the oboe in combination with the flute, the strings
being divided--"

And once more he plunged down into the depths of orchestral knowledge
taking Charmian with him. He quoted Prout, he quoted Vincent d'Indy; he
minutely compared passages in Elgar's second symphony with passages in
Tchaikovsky's fifth symphony; he dissected the delicate orchestral
effects in Debussy's _Nuages_ and _Fete Nocturne_, compared the modern
French methods in orchestration with Richard Strauss's gigantic, and
sometimes monstrous combinations. But again and again he returned to his
pupil, Claude. As he talked his enthusiasm mounted. The little roll of
flesh trembled as he emphatically moved his head. His voice grew
harsher, more German. He untied and reknotted his flowing cravat, pulled
up his boots with elastic sides, thrust his cuffs, which were not
attached to his shirt, violently out of sight up his plump arms.

Charmian could not doubt his admiration for the opera. It was expressed
in a manner peculiar to Jernington that became almost epileptic, but it
was undoubtedly sincere.

When he left her and went back to Claude's workroom she was glowing with
pride and happiness.

"That funny old thing knows!" she thought. "He knows!"

Jernington was usually called an old thing, although he was not yet
forty.

His departure was due about the twentieth of August, but when that day
drew near Claude begged him to stay on till the end of the month.
Charmian was secretly dismayed. She had news from Lake that h