eing at least, for after a moment's
incertitude, in which she seemed to battle with herself, she turned her
humid brown eyes upon him, and said softly:

'I am very foolishly suspicious sometimes, Paul. I know--oh, I know that
I am not the girl I used to be. Bear with me, dear. I shall be different
by-and-by.'

'I am sure of that,' he answered, and she approaching him with an
appealing languor in her eyes, and in the carriage of her whole figure,
he took her into his arms, and for a minute or two she cried quietly
upon his shoulder. He patted and caressed her, and she looked up with a
quivering face.

'I will never think or say those things again. I know how wrong they
are, but, Paul, they come into my mind, and I cannot resist them
sometimes. But I will--I will in future. You shall never hear them any
more. But I want you to believe me, dearest, in just this one little
thing. It will be the best and kindest thing that you can do for me
to leave me here alone whilst you are away in London. I am not without
friends here, when I can find the courage and the strength to see them.
M. Laurent will look after me. You will write to me every day, won't
you? I shall not be lonely. But the idea of having a stranger about me,
fussing and inquiring, is horrible. I can't bear it.'

'Very well, dear,'said Paul, greatly relieved at the turn things had
taken, 'you shall have your way. But you must remember, dear '--he spoke
as soothingly as he could--' it is my duty to see that you are cared for
properly, and I must not leave you to yourself unless I am quite
assured beforehand that you are certain to be bright and brave when I am
gone.'He placed his hand beneath her chin, and coaxed her eyes to meet
his own. 'You won't nourish these distressing fancies any more, will
you?'

'No,' she answered, clinging to him; 'they are all gone. They are all
done with. You will be kind and good to me, Paul--I know you will. It
isn't a very great favour for a grown-up woman to ask to be allowed to
take care of herself, is it, Paul, darling?'

'That must depend,' he answered gaily, 'whether the grown-up woman is
well enough and strong enough for the task.'

'Ah, well,' said Annette with an equal brightness, 'you shall see.'

There were still two days' work to be done at the comedy, and Darco was
resolute not to leave for London until all was finished. The first two
acts were already in rehearsal at the Congreve, and Pauer, who was one
of those