u mean by the
unessential," said Madame Ratignolle, cheerfully; "but a woman who would
give her life for her children could do no more than that--your Bible
tells you so. I'm sure I couldn't do more than that."

"Oh, yes you could!" laughed Edna.

She was not surprised at Mademoiselle Reisz's question the morning that
lady, following her to the beach, tapped her on the shoulder and asked
if she did not greatly miss her young friend.

"Oh, good morning, Mademoiselle; is it you? Why, of course I miss
Robert. Are you going down to bathe?"

"Why should I go down to bathe at the very end of the season when I
haven't been in the surf all summer," replied the woman, disagreeably.

"I beg your pardon," offered Edna, in some embarrassment, for she should
have remembered that Mademoiselle Reisz's avoidance of the water had
furnished a theme for much pleasantry. Some among them thought it was
on account of her false hair, or the dread of getting the violets wet,
while others attributed it to the natural aversion for water sometimes
believed to accompany the artistic temperament. Mademoiselle offered
Edna some chocolates in a paper bag, which she took from her pocket,
by way of showing that she bore no ill feeling. She habitually ate
chocolates for their sustaining quality; they contained much nutriment
in small compass, she said. They saved her from starvation, as Madame
Lebrun's table was utterly impossible; and no one save so impertinent a
woman as Madame Lebrun could think of offering such food to people and
requiring them to pay for it.

"She must feel very lonely without her son," said Edna, desiring to
change the subject. "Her favorite son, too. It must have been quite hard
to let him go."

Mademoiselle laughed maliciously.

"Her favorite son! Oh, dear! Who could have been imposing such a tale
upon you? Aline Lebrun lives for Victor, and for Victor alone. She has
spoiled him into the worthless creature he is. She worships him and the
ground he walks on. Robert is very well in a way, to give up all the
money he can earn to the family, and keep the barest pittance for
himself. Favorite son, indeed! I miss the poor fellow myself, my dear. I
liked to see him and to hear him about the place the only Lebrun who is
worth a pinch of salt. He comes to see me often in the city. I like
to play to him. That Victor! hanging would be too good for him. It's a
wonder Robert hasn't beaten him to death long ago."

"I thought he had