rabita sang," he said, looking up at his
mother as she stood looking down on him, "better even than in _Faust_
last night! I want to hear her again just as often as I can. Her voice
carries one right away, out of oneself, into regions of pure and
unmitigated romance. All things are possible for the moment. One
becomes as the gods, omnipotent. We've got the box as usual on
Saturday, mother, haven't we? Do you remember if she sings?"

Katherine replied that the great soprano did sing.

"I'm glad," Richard said; "and yet I don't know that it's particularly
wholesome to hear her. After being as the gods, one descends with
rather too much of a run to the level of the ordinary mortal."--He
turned on his elbow restlessly, and the movement altered the lie of the
bedclothes, thereby disclosing the unsightly disproportion of his
person through the light blanket and sheet. "And if one's own level
happens unfortunately to be below that of even the ordinary
mortal--well--well--don't you know----"

"My dear!" Katherine put in softly.

Richard lay straight on his back again, and held out his hand to her.

"Sit down, do," he said. "Turn the big chair round so that I may see
you. I like you in that frilly, white dressing-gown thing. Don't be
afraid, I'm not going to be a brute and grumble. You're much too good
to me, and I know I am disgustingly selfish at times. I was this
winter, but----"

"The past is past," Katherine put in again very softly.

"Yes, please God, it is," he said,--"in some ways."--He paused, and
then spoke as though with an effort returning from some far distance of
thought:--"Yes, I like you in that white, frilly thing. But I liked
that new, black gown of yours to-night too. You looked glorious, do you
mind my saying so? And no woman walks as well as you do. I compared, I
watched. There's nothing more beautiful than seeing a woman walk really
well--or a man either, for that matter."

Then he caught at her hand again, laughing a little.--"No, I'm not
going to grumble," he said. "Upon my word, mother, I swear I'm not.
Here let's talk about your gowns. I should like to know, shall you
never wear anything but gray or black?"

"Never, not even to please you, Dickie."

"Ah, that's so delicious with you!" he exclaimed. "Every now and then
you bring one up short, one knocks one's head against a stone wall!
There is an indomitable strain in you. I only hope you've transmitted
it to me. I'm afraid I need stiffening