begged
George's pardon on my two knees if there had been any way of beginning;
but there was not, and I could not do it!'

Though she slept badly that night, Paula promptly appeared in the public
room to breakfast, and that not from motives of vanity; for, while not
unconscious of her accession to the unstable throne of queen-beauty in
the establishment, she seemed too preoccupied to care for the honour
just then, and would readily have changed places with her unhappy
predecessor, who lingered on in the background like a candle after
sunrise.

Mrs. Goodman was determined to trust no longer to Paula for putting an
end to what made her so restless and self-reproachful. Seeing old Mr.
Somerset enter to a little side-table behind for lack of room at the
crowded centre tables, again without his son, she turned her head and
asked point-blank where the young man was.

Mr. Somerset's face became a shade graver than before. 'My son is
unwell,' he replied; 'so unwell that he has been advised to stay indoors
and take perfect rest.'

'I do hope it is nothing serious.'

'I hope so too. The fact is, he has overdone himself a little. He was
not well when he came here; and to make himself worse he must needs go
dancing at the Casino with this lady and that--among others with a young
American lady who is here with her family, and whom he met in London
last year. I advised him against it, but he seemed desperately
determined to shake off lethargy by any rash means, and wouldn't listen
to me. Luckily he is not in the hotel, but in a quiet cottage a hundred
yards up the hill.'

Paula, who had heard all, did not show or say what she felt at the news:
but after breakfast, on meeting the landlady in a passage alone, she
asked with some anxiety if there were a really skilful medical man in
Etretat; and on being told that there was, and his name, she went back
to look for Mr. Somerset; but he had gone.

They heard nothing more of young Somerset all that morning, but towards
evening, while Paula sat at her window, looking over the heads of
fuchsias upon the promenade beyond, she saw the painter walk by. She
immediately went to her aunt and begged her to go out and ask Mr.
Somerset if his son had improved.

'I will send Milly or Clementine,' said Mrs. Goodman.

'I wish you would see him yourself.'

'He has gone on. I shall never find him.'

'He has only gone round to the front,' persisted Paula. 'Do walk that
way, auntie, and ask