have enjoyed every moment there; but--it is never
pleasant to be with a man when you think he is wishing that you were
another girl.

"Was she pretty?" I couldn't resist asking.

For an instant he looked bewildered; then he understood. "Very," he
replied, smiling. "About the prettiest girl I ever saw. The description
of Nicolete would fit her very well. 'The clear face, delicately fine,'
and all that. But I don't let my mind dwell much on girls in these days,
when I can help it, as you can well imagine."

"And when you can't help it?" I wanted to know.

"Oh, when I can't help it, I feel like a bear with a sore head, and no
honey in my hollow tree."

So that is why he is so disagreeable, sometimes! He is thinking of the
girl of the battlemented garden at Beaucaire. I shall try and find out
all about her; but I don't know that I shall feel better satisfied when
I have.

CHAPTER XVIII

The garden on the battlements at Beaucaire seemed to bring out all
that's best in Lady Turnour, and she was--for her--quite radiant when we
arrived at Arles. Not that it was much credit to her to be radiant, when
the road had been perfect, and the car had behaved like an angel, as
usual; but small favours from small natures are thankfully received; and
just as it is a blight upon the spirits of the whole party when her
ladyship frowns, so do we cheer up and hope for better things when she
smiles.

As we were to spend the night at Arles, and arrived at the quaint,
delightful Hotel du Forum before lunch, even the working classes
(meaning my alleged brother and myself) could afford that pleasant,
leisured feeling which is the right of those more highly placed.

The moment we arrived I knew that I was going to fall in love with
Arles, and I hurried to get the unpacking done, so that I might be free
to make its acquaintance. Lady Turnour, still in her garden mood, told
me to do as I liked till time to dress her for dinner, but to mind and
have no more accidents, as all her frocks hooked at the back.

I am getting to be quite a skilled lady's-maid now, and am not sure it
ought not to be my permanent _metier_, though I do like to think I was
born for better things, and comfort myself by remembering how mother
used to say that a lady can always do everything better than a common
person if she chooses to try, even menial work, because she puts her
intelligence and love for daintiness into all she does. I unpacked my
master's and