had made her catch her breath in that long second when
their eyes had met. Yes, of course--why not admit it?--he interested
her. He was rugged, he was strong, and above all he was supremely a
man. Of course, it was only a matter of a week, a month, the time they
chose to stay there; but it would be a decided novelty while it lasted.

She laughed suddenly aloud--a low, rippling little laugh. Actually the
man was already her slave! Imagine a man like that her slave!
Certainly it would be a new sensation. What a strange thrill it had
given her when she had first caught sight of him on the bridge the
afternoon before. Well, why shouldn't it have done so--a fisherman
with a face like that? It was amazing! Think of finding such a man in
such a situation! Was it any wonder that she had thrilled--even if he
were only a fisherman? In Paris, of course, she could not have done
what she had done, it would have been quite out of the question, there
were the conventions--but then in Paris one didn't see men like that!

"And since," confided Myrna Bliss to a little urchin running in the
street below, who neither saw nor heard her, "we are not in Paris, but
in Bernay-sur-Mer, which is quite another story, you see it is not
absurd or ridiculous at all, and I and my fisherman--"

She turned abruptly from the window at the sound of a knock and the
opening of her door. It was Nanette, her maid, with a tray.

"I have mademoiselle's _dejeuner_," announced Nanette. "Monsieur Bliss
has already finished his, and asks if mademoiselle will soon be ready.
He is waiting with Monsieur le Cure for you."

"Waiting--with Monsieur le Cure?"--Myrna's eyebrows went up in
well-simulated surprise.

"To visit the cottage mademoiselle has taken," amplified Nanette, and
her retrousse nose was delicately elevated a trifle higher. Nanette,
very evidently, was one at all events who was not in favour of the plan.

"Oh, the cottage--of course!" exclaimed Myrna, as though suddenly
inspired. "I had forgotten all about it. Dress me quickly then,
Nanette."

Nanette tossed a shapely dark head.

"Is mademoiselle going to stay here long?"--Nanette at times felt
privileged to take liberties.

"Gracious, Nanette!" complained Myrna sweetly. "What a question! How
can you possibly expect me to know?"

Nanette arranged the tray perfunctorily.

"There was a man who left a message with that imbecile proprietor for
mademoiselle early this morning,"