her sister that this vision cheered them up as they sat, they two, in
the red salon while Francie was in bed. Of course it didn't exhilarate
this young lady, and she even looked for no brighter side now. She knew
almost nothing but her sharp little ache of suspense, her presentiment
of Gaston's horror, which grew all the while. Delia remarked to her once
that he would have seen lots of society-papers over there, he would have
become familiar; but this only suggested to the girl--she had at present
strange new moments and impulses of quick reasoning--that they would
only prepare him to be disgusted, not to be indifferent. His disgust
would be colder than anything she had ever known and would complete her
knowledge of him--make her understand him properly for the first time.
She would just meet it as briefly as possible; it would wind up the
business, close the incident, and all would be over.

He didn't write; that proved it in advance; there had now been two or
three mails without a letter. He had seen the paper in Boston or in New
York and it had simply struck him dumb. It was very well for Delia to
say that of course he didn't write when he was on the ocean: how could
they get his letters even if he did? There had been time before--before
he sailed; though Delia represented that people never wrote then. They
were ever so much too busy at the last and were going to see their
correspondents in a few days anyway. The only missives that came to
Francie were a copy of the Reverberator, addressed in Mr. Flack's hand
and with a great inkmark on the margin of the fatal letter, and three
intense pages from Mme. de Brecourt, received forty-eight hours after
the scene at her house. This lady expressed herself as follows:

MY DEAR FRANCIE--I felt very badly after you had gone yesterday morning,
and I had twenty minds to go and see you. But we've talked it over
conscientiously and it appears to us that we've no right to take any
such step till Gaston arrives. The situation isn't exclusively ours but
belongs to him as well, and we feel we ought to make it over to him in
as simple and compact a form as possible. Therefore, as we regard it, we
had better not touch it (it's so delicate, isn't it, my poor child?) but
leave it just as it is. They think I even exceed my powers in writing
you these simple lines, and that once your participation has been
constatee (which was the only advantage of that dreadful scene)
EVERYTHING should sto