foreign, about their whole manner of living. In the large
and pleasant salon which extended across the width of the house, the
Ratignolles entertained their friends once a fortnight with a soiree
musicale, sometimes diversified by card-playing. There was a friend who
played upon the 'cello. One brought his flute and another his violin,
while there were some who sang and a number who performed upon the piano
with various degrees of taste and agility. The Ratignolles' soirees
musicales were widely known, and it was considered a privilege to be
invited to them.

Edna found her friend engaged in assorting the clothes which had
returned that morning from the laundry. She at once abandoned her
occupation upon seeing Edna, who had been ushered without ceremony into
her presence.

"'Cite can do it as well as I; it is really her business," she explained
to Edna, who apologized for interrupting her. And she summoned a young
black woman, whom she instructed, in French, to be very careful in
checking off the list which she handed her. She told her to notice
particularly if a fine linen handkerchief of Monsieur Ratignolle's,
which was missing last week, had been returned; and to be sure to set to
one side such pieces as required mending and darning.

Then placing an arm around Edna's waist, she led her to the front of the
house, to the salon, where it was cool and sweet with the odor of great
roses that stood upon the hearth in jars.

Madame Ratignolle looked more beautiful than ever there at home, in a
neglige which left her arms almost wholly bare and exposed the rich,
melting curves of her white throat.

"Perhaps I shall be able to paint your picture some day," said Edna with
a smile when they were seated. She produced the roll of sketches and
started to unfold them. "I believe I ought to work again. I feel as if I
wanted to be doing something. What do you think of them? Do you think it
worth while to take it up again and study some more? I might study for a
while with Laidpore."

She knew that Madame Ratignolle's opinion in such a matter would be next
to valueless, that she herself had not alone decided, but determined;
but she sought the words of praise and encouragement that would help her
to put heart into her venture.

"Your talent is immense, dear!"

"Nonsense!" protested Edna, well pleased.

"Immense, I tell you," persisted Madame Ratignolle, surveying the
sketches one by one, at close range, then holding them