elivered by one who was used to being obeyed. Maisie said
nothing, but she felt grateful that there was no chance of disputing
with this big man who took everything for granted and managed a
squealing horse with one hand. She returned to the red-haired girl,
who was weeping bitterly, and between tears, kisses,--very few of
those,--menthol, packing, and an interview with Kami, the sultry
afternoon wore away.

Thought might come afterwards. Her present duty was to go to Dick,--Dick
who owned the wondrous friend and sat in the dark playing with her
unopened letters.

'But what will you do,' she said to her companion.

'I? Oh, I shall stay here and--finish your Melancolia,' she said,
smiling pitifully. 'Write to me afterwards.'

That night there ran a legend through Vitry-sur-Marne of a mad
Englishman, doubtless suffering from sunstroke, who had drunk all the
officers of the garrison under the table, had borrowed a horse from the
lines, and had then and there eloped, after the English custom, with one
of those more mad English girls who drew pictures down there under the
care of that good Monsieur Kami.

'They are very droll,' said Suzanne to the conscript in the moonlight
by the studio wall. 'She walked always with those big eyes that saw
nothing, and yet she kisses me on both cheeks as though she were my
sister, and gives me--see--ten francs!'

The conscript levied a contribution on both gifts; for he prided himself
on being a good soldier.

Torpenhow spoke very little to Maisie during the journey to Calais;
but he was careful to attend to all her wants, to get her a compartment
entirely to herself, and to leave her alone. He was amazed of the ease
with which the matter had been accomplished.

'The safest thing would be to let her think things out. By Dick's
showing,--when he was off his head,--she must have ordered him about
very thoroughly. Wonder how she likes being under orders.'

Maisie never told. She sat in the empty compartment often with her eyes
shut, that she might realise the sensation of blindness. It was an order
that she should return to London swiftly, and she found herself at last
almost beginning to enjoy the situation. This was better than looking
after luggage and a red-haired friend who never took any interest in her
surroundings. But there appeared to be a feeling in the air that she,
Maisie,--of all people,--was in disgrace. Therefore she justified her
conduct to herself with great succes