ramatic way! As if
it were a matter of life and death! Never saying a word about it all
morning when he was with me."

"Yes," agreed Madame Ratignolle. "I think it was showing us all--you
especially--very little consideration. It wouldn't have surprised me in
any of the others; those Lebruns are all given to heroics. But I must
say I should never have expected such a thing from Robert. Are you not
coming down? Come on, dear; it doesn't look friendly."

"No," said Edna, a little sullenly. "I can't go to the trouble of
dressing again; I don't feel like it."

"You needn't dress; you look all right; fasten a belt around your waist.
Just look at me!"

"No," persisted Edna; "but you go on. Madame Lebrun might be offended if
we both stayed away."

Madame Ratignolle kissed Edna good-night, and went away, being in truth
rather desirous of joining in the general and animated conversation
which was still in progress concerning Mexico and the Mexicans.

Somewhat later Robert came up, carrying his hand-bag.

"Aren't you feeling well?" he asked.

"Oh, well enough. Are you going right away?"

He lit a match and looked at his watch. "In twenty minutes," he said.
The sudden and brief flare of the match emphasized the darkness for a
while. He sat down upon a stool which the children had left out on the
porch.

"Get a chair," said Edna.

"This will do," he replied. He put on his soft hat and nervously took it
off again, and wiping his face with his handkerchief, complained of the
heat.

"Take the fan," said Edna, offering it to him.

"Oh, no! Thank you. It does no good; you have to stop fanning some time,
and feel all the more uncomfortable afterward."

"That's one of the ridiculous things which men always say. I have never
known one to speak otherwise of fanning. How long will you be gone?"

"Forever, perhaps. I don't know. It depends upon a good many things."

"Well, in case it shouldn't be forever, how long will it be?"

"I don't know."

"This seems to me perfectly preposterous and uncalled for. I don't like
it. I don't understand your motive for silence and mystery, never saying
a word to me about it this morning." He remained silent, not offering to
defend himself. He only said, after a moment:

"Don't part from me in any ill humor. I never knew you to be out of
patience with me before."

"I don't want to part in any ill humor," she said. "But can't you
understand? I've grown used to seeing you, to having yo