ich lay over the land. They began early in the
morning before the sun was high, rested and slept in the middle of the
day, resumed work about five, and, with an interval for dinner, went on
till late in the night.

The English Colony had long since broken up. Only the British
Vice-Consul and his wife remained, and they lived a good way out in the
country. Since May few people had come to disturb the peace of
Djenan-el-Maqui. Charmian dwelt in a strange and sun-smitten isolation.
She was very much alone. Only now and then some French acquaintance
would call to see her and sit with her for a little while at evening in
the garden, or in the courtyard of the fountain.

The beauty, the fierce romance of this land, sometimes excited her
spirit. Sometimes, with fiery hands, it lulled her into a condition
almost of apathy. She listened to the fountain, she looked at the sea
which was always blue, and she felt almost as if some part of her nature
had fallen away from her, leaving her vague and fragmentary, a Charmian
lacking some virtue, or vice, that had formerly been hers and had made
her salient. But this apathy did not last long. The sound of
Jernington's strangely German voice talking loudly above would disturb
it, perhaps, or the noise of chords or passages powerfully struck upon
the piano. And immediately the child was with her again, she was busy
thinking, planning, hoping, longing, concentrated on the future of the
child.

She had studied the libretto minutely, had practised reading it aloud.
It was of course written in French, and she found a clever woman,
retired from a theatrical career in Paris, Madame Thenant, who gave her
lessons in elocution, and who finally said that she read the libretto
"_assez bien_." This from Madame Thenant, who had played Dowagers at the
Comedie Francaise, was a high compliment. Charmian felt that she was
ready to make an effect on Jacob Crayford. She was in active
correspondence with Alston Lake, who was still in London, and who had
had greater success than before. From him she knew that Crayford was in
town, and would take his usual "cure" in August at Divonne-les-Bains.
Lake had "begun upon him" warily, but had not yet even hinted at the
visit to Africa. After his "cure" Crayford proposed making a motor tour.
He thought nothing of running all over Europe in his car. Lake was going
presently to speak of the perfect surfaces of the Algerian roads, "the
best way perhaps of getting him t