n,
try as he may. By a series of assertions, hard to deny, the hero arrives
at a terrible conclusion amounting to this: Art, affection, are in
vain; we know not what we say, nor whom we love.

Jouffroy came out of the theatre, snorting and ruffled.

"But they are imbeciles, all!"

Hadria thought that perhaps _she_ was the "imbecile"; it was a
possibility to be counted with, but she dared not say so to the irate
Jouffroy.

He was particularly angry, because the audience had confirmed his own
fear that only very slowly would the quality of the music be recognized
by even the more cultivated public. It had invaded fresh territory, he
said, added to the range of expression, and was meanwhile a new language
to casual listeners. It was rebel music, offensive to the orthodox.
Hubert had always said that "it was out of the question," and he
appeared to have been right.

"_Bah, ce ne sont que des moutons!_" exclaimed Jouffroy. If the work had
been poorer, less original, there would not have been this trouble. Was
there not some other method by which Madame could earn what was
necessary, _en attendent_?

In one of Professor Fortescue's letters, he had reminded Hadria of his
eagerness to help her. Yet, what could he do? He had influence in the
world of science, but Hadria could not produce anything scientific! She
bethought her of trying to write light descriptive articles, of a kind
depending not so much on literary skill as on subject and epistolary
freshness of touch. These she sent to the Professor, not without
reluctance, knowing how overburdened he already was with work and with
applications for help and advice. He approved of her idea, and advised
the articles being sent the round of the magazines and papers.

Through his influence, one of the shorter articles was accepted, and
Hadria felt encouraged. Her day was now very full. The new art was
laborious, severely simple in character, though she studiously made her
articles. Her acquaintances had multiplied very rapidly of late, and
although this brought into her experience much that was pleasant and
interesting, the demands of an enlarging circle swallowed an
astonishing number of hours. An element of trouble had begun to come
into the life that had been so full of serenity, as well as of regular
and strenuous work. Hadria was already feeling the effects of anxiety
and hurry. She had not come with untried powers to the fray. The reserve
forces had long ago been sap