es mingled in the air between
them.

"Also ran: 'Michael Mont'?" he said. Fleur turned abruptly toward the
house. On the lawn she stopped to look back. Michael Mont was whirling
his arms above him; she could see them dashing at his head; then waving
at the moonlit blossoms of the acacia. His voice just reached her.
"Jolly-jolly!" Fleur shook herself. She couldn't help him, she had too
much trouble of her own! On the verandah she stopped very suddenly
again. Her mother was sitting in the drawing-room at her writing bureau,
quite alone. There was nothing remarkable in the expression of her face
except its utter immobility. But she looked desolate! Fleur went
upstairs. At the door of her room she paused. She could hear her father
walking up and down, up and down the picture-gallery.

'Yes,' she thought, jolly! Oh, Jon!'

X

DECISION

When Fleur left him Jon stared at the Austrian. She was a thin woman
with a dark face and the concerned expression of one who has watched
every little good that life once had slip from her, one by one. "No tea?"
she said.

Susceptible to the disappointment in her voice, Jon murmured:

"No, really; thanks."

"A lil cup--it ready. A lil cup and cigarette."

Fleur was gone! Hours of remorse and indecision lay before him! And
with a heavy sense of disproportion he smiled, and said:

"Well--thank you!"

She brought in a little pot of tea with two little cups, and a silver box
of cigarettes on a little tray.

"Sugar? Miss Forsyte has much sugar--she buy my sugar, my friend's sugar
also. Miss Forsyte is a veree kind lady. I am happy to serve her. You
her brother?"

"Yes," said Jon, beginning to puff the second cigarette of his life.

"Very young brother," said the Austrian, with a little anxious smile,
which reminded him of the wag of a dog's tail.

"May I give you some?" he said. "And won't you sit down, please?"

The Austrian shook her head.

"Your father a very nice old man--the most nice old man I ever see. Miss
Forsyte tell me all about him. Is he better?"

Her words fell on Jon like a reproach. "Oh Yes, I think he's all right."

"I like to see him again," said the Austrian, putting a hand on her
heart; "he have veree kind heart."

"Yes," said Jon. And again her words seemed to him a reproach.

"He never give no trouble to no one, and smile so gentle."

"Yes, doesn't he?"

"He look at Miss Forsyte so funny sometimes. I tell him all my