e. No one came to see her. Toward evening she felt deserted,
presently even strangely depressed. As she dined, as she sat out
afterward in the court with Caroline reposing on her skirt in a curved
attitude of supreme contentment, she recalled the excitement and emotion
of the preceding night. She had read well. She had done her part for
Claude. But if all her work had been useless? If all the ingenuity of
herself and Alston should be of no avail? If the opera should never be
produced, or should be produced and fail? Perhaps for the first time she
strongly and deliberately imagined that catastrophe. For so long now had
the opera been the thing that ruled in her life with Claude, for so long
had everything centered round it, been subservient to it, that Charmian
could scarcely conceive of life without it. She would be quite alone
with Claude. Now they were a _menage a trois_. She recalled the
beginnings of her married life. How fussy, how anxious, how unstable
they had been! Now the current flowed strongly, steadily, evenly. The
river seemed to have a soul, to know whither it was flowing.

Surely so much thought, care, labor and love could not be bestowed on a
thing in vain; surely the opera, child of so many hopes, bearer of such
a load of ambition, could not "go down"? She tried to regain her
strength of anticipation. But all the evening she felt depressed. If
only Alston would come in for five minutes! Perhaps he would. She
looked at the tiny watch which hung by her side at the end of a thin
gold chain. The hands pointed to half-past nine. He might come yet. She
listened. The night, one of a long succession of marvellous African
nights, was perfectly still. The servants within the villa made no
sound. Caroline heaved a faint sigh and stirred, turning to push her
long nose into a tempting fold of Charmian's skirt. But, midway in her
movement she paused, lifted her head, stared at the darkness with her
small yellow eyes, and uttered a muffled bark which was like an inquiry.
Her nose was twitching.

"What is it, Caroline?" said Charmian.

She lifted the dog on to her knees.

"What is it?"

Caroline barked faintly again.

"Someone is coming," thought Charmian. "Alston is coming."

Almost directly she heard the sound of wheels, and Caroline jumping down
with her lopetty movement, delivered herself up to a succession of calm
barks. She was a gentle individual, and never showed any great
animation, even in such a cris