weighing his anger, and Felicite, who came in as he stood in the
middle of the room brushing his hair, smiled at the misery in his face.

"So she was cruel, the little one?" she asked gently, sitting down and
folding her hands in her characteristic way.

"She was--abominable. But how did you know?"

"I found her in tears. You must be gentle with her, my man."

He stared. "Gentle? But she is a demon when she is angry. Tell me to be
gentle with an enraged lioness."

Felicite's smile was good to see. "She is not an enraged lioness,
Victor. She is--very unhappy, and we must help her."

He went to the dressing-table and put down his brushes. "I am tired,
wife," he said quietly; "let us talk of something else. Besides, it is
nearly half-past eight."

She nodded.

"Yes. But--Victor, you remember the Polish girl?"

"Franska? Yes."

"Well? And the pantomimiste, and Miss Belton, and Lady Paula----"

Joyselle started in the act of shaking scent on his handkerchief. "Of
course I remember them. But what have they to do with Brigitte?"

"Only this, Victor. The poor child is in love with you, _vieux vaurien_!
And that is why she is so savage."

She sat quite still, looking up at him with an indulgent smile, into
which the maternal element largely entered. He was a fatal person, this
great fiddler of hers; but to her he was also a child to be cared for,
and a not quite normal being, to whose absent mind much must be
explained.

Her charming face, almost old in spite of its fresh colour, was touched,
as she watched his back, with a flicker of kindly mischief.

"And to think that you did not know, blind one," she teased.

"It--it is your imagination," he returned with a slight stammer, turning
and facing her.

"No, no. Also I did not imagine that at first you, too, were a little
_epris_. It was most natural, my dear. She is so very beautiful. I was
glad when it passed. It was the day of the long discussion about the
wedding--the day of the letter from your mother--do you remember? When
you rushed away like a whirlwind?"

"Yes--I remember."

"Well, when you returned, you were quiet and a little pale, and I
understood. The talk about Theo's wedding had put things into their
right places in your mind, silly old child, _pas_? And then you brought
her back here after the dance, and--all was well."

Joyselle stood quite still. He was bitterly ashamed of himself for
deceiving this dear, good woman, who was so innocently