I promised to convey to Paragot the tabu of the Black Boar, and then I
asked her which she preferred, England or France. She shivered, and a
gleam of frost returned to her eyes.

"I never want to see France again. I was so unhappy there. I am trying
to persuade Mr. de Nerac to live in London. He can find as much scope
for his art there as in Paris, can't he?"

"Surely," said I.

"And you'll come too," she said with the flash of gaiety that was one of
her charms. "You'll have a beautiful studio near by and we'll all be
happy together."

She jumped off the painting stool and having bidden me light the gas,
resumed her task of embroidering the stole, by the fireside.

"It's pretty, isn't it?" she asked, holding it up for my inspection.

I agreed. She had considerable talent for art needlework.

"Gaston doesn't appreciate it," she remarked, laughing. "He disapproves
of clergymen."

"They have scarcely been in his line," I answered apologetically.

"They will have to be. Oh, you'll see. I'll make him a model Englishman
before very long."

"I'm afraid you will find it rather difficult, Madame," said I.

"Do you think I'm afraid of difficulties? Isn't everything difficult? Is
it easy for you to get everything to come out on that canvas just as you
want it? If you could dash it off in a minute it wouldn't be worth
doing. As you yourself said, I'll have to give Gaston time."

I seated myself on the fender-seat close by her chair, and for some
minutes watched the clever needle work its golden way through the white
silk. No one has ever had such dainty fingers and delicate wrists.

"You mustn't think, because I have spoken about Mr. de Nerac, that I am
discontented. I wouldn't have him a bit altered integrally, for there is
no one like him living. And I'm utterly happy in the fulfilment of the
great romance of my life. Isn't it wonderful, Asticot? Have you ever
heard the like outside a story book? To meet again after thirteen years
and to find the old--the old----"

"Love," I whispered, as I saw that she suddenly blushed at the word.

"As strong and true as ever. It is the inner things that matter,
Asticot. The outside ones are nothing. Dreadful things have happened to
each of us during those years, but they haven't clouded the serenity of
our souls."

"Ah, Madame," said I, with a smile--it strikes me now that I was
slightly impertinent--"I am sure my master said that."

"Yes," she admitted, raising wide innoc