and that I meant the
ambition for perfection, not at all the ambition for celebrity. The
satisfaction of the former may be a deep and exquisite joy--the partial
satisfaction, for I suppose it can never be anything more than that. But
the satisfaction of the other will certainly be Dead-sea fruit--fruit of
the sea unlike that brought up by Ruffo, without lasting savor, without
any real value. One should never live for that."

The last words he spoke as if to himself, almost like a warning
addressed to himself.

"I don't believe I ever should," Vere said quickly. "I never thought of
such a thing."

"The thought will come, though, inevitably."

"How dreadful it must be to know so much about human nature as you do!"

"And yet how little I really know!"

There came up a distant cry from the sea. Vere started.

"There is Madre! Of course, Monsieur Emile, I don't want--but you
understand!"

She hurried out of the room, carrying the packet with her.

Artois felt that the girl was strongly excited. She was revealing more
of herself to him, this little Vere whom he had known, and not known,
ever since she had been a baby. The gradual revelation interested him
intensely--so intensely that in him, too, there was excitement now. So
many truths go to make up the whole round truth of every human soul.
Hermione saw some of these truths of Vere, Gaspare others, perhaps; he
again others. And even Ruffo and the Marchesino--he put the Marchesino
most definitely last--even they saw still other truths of Vere, he
supposed.

To whom did she reveal the most? The mother ought to know most, and
during the years of childhood had doubtless known most. But those
years were nearly over. Certainly Vere was approaching, or was on, the
threshold of the second period of her life.

And she and he had a secret from Hermione. This secret was a very
innocent one. Still, of course, it had the two attributes that belong to
every secret: of drawing together those who share it, of setting apart
from them those who know it not. And there was another secret, too,
connected with it, and known only to Artois: the fact that the child,
Vere, possessed the very small but quite definite beginnings, the seed,
as it were, of something that had been denied to the mother, Hermione.

"Emile, you have come back! I am glad!"

Hermione came into the room with her eager manner and rather slow gait,
holding out both her hands, her hot face and prominent eyes show