f his head one day," answered Edna, "and
he thought the photograph might help me. It was at the other house. I
thought it had been left there. I must have packed it up with my drawing
materials."

"I should think you would give it back to him if you have finished with
it."

"Oh! I have a great many such photographs. I never think of returning
them. They don't amount to anything." Robert kept on looking at the
picture.

"It seems to me--do you think his head worth drawing? Is he a friend of
Mr. Pontellier's? You never said you knew him."

"He isn't a friend of Mr. Pontellier's; he's a friend of mine. I always
knew him--that is, it is only of late that I know him pretty well. But
I'd rather talk about you, and know what you have been seeing and doing
and feeling out there in Mexico." Robert threw aside the picture.

"I've been seeing the waves and the white beach of Grand Isle; the
quiet, grassy street of the Cheniere; the old fort at Grande Terre. I've
been working like a machine, and feeling like a lost soul. There was
nothing interesting."

She leaned her head upon her hand to shade her eyes from the light.

"And what have you been seeing and doing and feeling all these days?" he
asked.

"I've been seeing the waves and the white beach of Grand Isle; the
quiet, grassy street of the Cheniere Caminada; the old sunny fort at
Grande Terre. I've been working with a little more comprehension than
a machine, and still feeling like a lost soul. There was nothing
interesting."

"Mrs. Pontellier, you are cruel," he said, with feeling, closing his
eyes and resting his head back in his chair. They remained in silence
till old Celestine announced dinner.

XXXIV

The dining-room was very small. Edna's round mahogany would have almost
filled it. As it was there was but a step or two from the little table
to the kitchen, to the mantel, the small buffet, and the side door that
opened out on the narrow brick-paved yard.

A certain degree of ceremony settled upon them with the announcement of
dinner. There was no return to personalities. Robert related incidents
of his sojourn in Mexico, and Edna talked of events likely to interest
him, which had occurred during his absence. The dinner was of ordinary
quality, except for the few delicacies which she had sent out to
purchase. Old Celestine, with a bandana tignon twisted about her head,
hobbled in and out, taking a personal interest in everything; and she
lingered o