in for any one's
opinion. And I have wanted him to make love to me often. But now I realize
it is no use. Only, you sha'n't have him, snake-girl! I told him as we
were going to the opera you were as cold as ice, and were playing with
Christopher, and I am going to take him down to Northumberland with me
to-morrow out of your way. He shall be my devoted friend, at any rate. You
would break his heart, and I shall still hold you to your promise."

I said nothing.

"Do you hear? I say: _You_ would break his heart. He would be only capable
of loving straight to the end. The kind of love any other woman would die
for--but--you--You are Carmen."

At all events, not _she_, nor any other woman, shall ever see what I am or
am not. My heart is not for them to peck at. So I said, calmly:

"Carmen was stabbed!"

"And serve her right! Fascinating, fiendish demon!" Then she laughed, her
mood changing.

"Did you see Charlie?" she said.

"We breakfasted together."

"Cheerful person, isn't he?"

"No," I said. "He looked cross and ill."

"Ill!" she said, with a shade of anxiety. "Oh, you only mean dyspeptic."

"Perhaps."

"Well, he always does when he comes from Paris. If you could go into his
room and see the row of photographs on his mantelpiece, you might guess
why."

"Pictures of 'Sole Dieppoise' and 'Poulet a la Victoria aux Truffes,' no
doubt," I hazarded.

She doubled up with laughter. "Yes, just that," she said. "Well, he adores
me in his way, and will bring me a new Cartier ring to make up for it--you
will see at luncheon."

"He is a perfect husband, then."

"About the same as you will find Christopher. Only Christopher will start
by being an exquisite lover. There is nothing he does not know, and
Charlie has not an idea of that part. Heavens!--the dulness of my
honeymoon!"

"Mrs. Carruthers said all honeymoons were only another parallel to going
to the dentist or being photographed. Necessary evils to be got through
for the sake of the results."

"The results!"

"Yes, the nice house and the jewels and the other things."

"Oh! Yes, I suppose she was right, but if one had married Robert one would
have had both." She did not say both what--but oh, I knew!

"You think Mr. Carruthers will make a fair husband, then?" I asked.

"You will never really know Christopher. I have been acquainted with him
for years. You will never feel he would tell you the whole truth about
anything. He is an epicure, and an an