e little daughter of the
Morleys, would be returning, and he could play with her. That might be a
joy--girls were not so tiresome and did not make so much noise as boys.

Zara turned to the piano, which she had not yet opened, and sat down and
comforted herself with the airs she loved; and the maid who listened,
while she waited for her mistress to be undressed, turned up her eyes in
wonder.

_"Quel drole de couple!"_ she said.

And Tristram reencountered his friends and went off with them to sup.

Her ladyship was tired, he told them, and had gone to bed. And two of
the Englishwomen who knew him quite well teased him and said how
beautiful his bride was and how strange-looking, and what an iceberg he
must be to be able to come out to supper and leave her alone! And they
wondered why he then smiled cynically.

"For," said one to the other on their way home, "the new Lady Tancred is
perfectly beautiful! Fancy, Gertrude, Tristram leaving her for a minute!
And did you ever see such a face? It looks anything but cold."

Zara was wide-awake when, about two, he came in. She heard him in the
sitting-room and suddenly became conscious that her thoughts had been
with him ever since she went to bed, and not with Mirko and his letter.

She supposed he was now reading his pile of correspondence--he had such
numbers of fond friends! And then she heard him shut the door, and go
round into his room; but the carpets were very thick and she heard no
more.

If she could have seen what happened beyond that closed door, would it
have opened her eyes, or made her happy? Who can tell?

For Higgins, with methodical tidiness, had emptied the pockets of the
coat his master had worn in the day, and there on top of a letter or two
and a card-case was one tiny pink rose, a wee bud that had become
detached from the torn bunch.

And when Tristram saw it his heart gave a great bound. So it had stayed
behind, when he had returned the others, and was there now to hurt him
with remembrance of what might have been! He was unable to control the
violent emotion which shook him. He went to the window and opened it
wide: the moon was rather over, but still blazed in the sky. Then he
bent down and passionately kissed the little bud, while a scorching mist
gathered in his eyes.

CHAPTER XX

So at last the Wednesday morning came--and they could go back to
England. From that Saturday night until they left Paris Tristram's
manner of icy, poli