." He resumed his contemplation of the pipe-joint, and
then said suddenly:

"I must think this over--I'll speak to you again to-night."

She knew this was final for the moment, and stole away, leaving him still
looking at the pipe-joint. She wandered into the fruit-garden, among the
raspberry and currant bushes, without impetus to pick and eat. Two
months ago--she was light-hearted! Even two days ago--light-hearted,
before Prosper Profond told her. Now she felt tangled in a web-of
passions, vested rights, oppressions and revolts, the ties of love and
hate. At this dark moment of discouragement there seemed, even to her
hold-fast nature, no way out. How deal with it--how sway and bend
things to her will, and get her heart's desire? And, suddenly, round the
corner of the high box hedge, she came plump on her mother, walking
swiftly, with an open letter in her hand. Her bosom was heaving, her
eyes dilated, her cheeks flushed. Instantly Fleur thought: 'The yacht!
Poor Mother!'

Annette gave her a wide startled look, and said:

"J'ai la migraine."

"I'm awfully sorry, Mother."

"Oh, yes! you and your father--sorry!"

"But, Mother--I am. I know what it feels like."

Annette's startled eyes grew wide, till the whites showed above them.

"Poor innocent!" she said.

Her mother--so self-possessed, and commonsensical--to look and speak like
this! It was all frightening! Her father, her mother, herself! And only
two months back they had seemed to have everything they wanted in this
world.

Annette crumpled the letter in her hand. Fleur knew that she must ignore
the sight.

"Can't I do anything for your head, Mother?"

Annette shook that head and walked on, swaying her hips.

'It's cruel,' thought Fleur, 'and I was glad! That man! What do men
come prowling for, disturbing everything! I suppose he's tired of her.
What business has he to be tired of my mother? What business!' And at
that thought, so natural and so peculiar, she uttered a little choked
laugh.

She ought, of course, to be delighted, but what was there to be delighted
at? Her father didn't really care! Her mother did, perhaps? She
entered the orchard, and sat down under a cherry-tree. A breeze sighed in
the higher boughs; the sky seen through their green was very blue and
very white in cloud--those heavy white clouds almost always present in
river landscape. Bees, sheltering out of the wind, hummed softly, and
over the lush grass