d kissed her.

Then he hurried to his room, packed a very small trunk, and took the
first train, as she had suggested, to Hammam R'rirha.

"If you move from there mind you let me know your address," she said, as
he was starting.

"Of course."

"I want always to know just where you are."

"Of course I shall let you know. But I think I shall stay quietly at
Hammam R'rirha."

Charmian had been alone for five days when another telegram came:

"Starting to-morrow for Algiers by the _Timgad_
Hurrah--ALSTON."

She read that telegram again and again. She even read it aloud. Then she
hurried to her room to get her copy of the libretto. Two days and they
would be here! Her heart danced, sang. Everything was going well, more
than well. The omens were good. She saw in them a tendency. Success was
in the air. She did not doubt, she would not doubt, that Crayford's
coming meant his eventual acceptance of the opera. The combination of
Alston and herself was a strong one. They knew their own minds; they
were both enthusiasts; they both had strong wills. Crayford was devoted
to his protege, and he admired her. She had seen admiration in his eyes
the first time they had looked at her. Madame Sennier had surely never
worked for her husband more strenuously and more effectively than she,
Charmian, had worked for Claude; and she would work more strenuously,
more effectively, during the next few days. The libretto! She snatched
it up and sat down once more to study it. But she could not sit still,
and she took it down with her into the garden. There she paced up and
down, reading it aloud, reciting the strongest passages in it without
looking at the words. She nearly knew the whole of it by heart.

When the day came on which the _Timgad_ was due she was in a fever of
excitement. She went about the little house re-arranging the furniture,
putting flowers in all the vases. Of course Mr. Crayford and Alston
would stay at a hotel. But no doubt they would spend a good deal of time
at the villa. She would insist on their dining with her that night.

"Jeanne! Jeanne!"

She hurried toward the kitchen. It occurred to her that she was not
supposed to know that the two men were coming. Oh, but of course, when
he found them there, Claude would understand that naturally Alston had
telegraphed from Marseilles. So she took "La Grande Jeanne" into her
confidence without a scruple. They must have a perfect little dinner, a
dinner for