owly and where to pause; and M. Lorman having wrapped a shawl
around her shoulders, she began gossiping with Augustin. When they
differed, she appealed to Raoul, and agreed prettily with his decision.
Augustin succumbed to her influence at once, and lost all his sulkiness.
He had played at the Odeon, and he knew what art was. M. Sarcey had said
of him that he would do well; and M. Regnier had been pleased to advise
him. He told Mademoiselle this, and he promised to bring to her a copy
of the _Temps_ that she might read the great critic's words for herself.
She ended the conversation with coquettish abruptness, and begged Raoul
to kneel beside her chair a moment, and follow her pencil as she marked
the manuscript and explained what her marks were intended to mean.

When Augustin had gone, she leaned back to where M. Lorman stood waiting
behind her.

"Beg of your friend," she said, "to be my chevalier and to protect me
from the dreadful people while I look at the sea."

Then at once, turning with a pleading glance towards Raoul, she added
with comic earnestness:

"Have mercy on me, Monsieur, I beseech you."

M. Lorman looked uncomfortable. There was an awkward pause. Then Raoul
stammered a fit reply and reddened, and, as he packed his violin away,
he muttered angrily: "Shall I never rid myself of this childish
sensitiveness? It is a shame to me that an accident has deformed me."

As Mademoiselle came from her room she whispered wickedly to M. Lorman:

"You may prepare your forfeit."

But he shook his head and laughed.

"No, no," he said. "Not yet; there is time enough."

* * * * *

Along the sea front the folk stared covertly at the new actress, as she
chatted volubly of the doings of the morning.

"Bah! they act badly--very badly," she said. "They should work
harder--they are too lazy. Work--work--work--that is the only cure for
them. But to-morrow they will do better, and we shall have a success."

Then she became more serious and talked of her own experience, and of
the long hours that she had spent in study. "Often I used to be so
tired," she said, "that I could not even sleep."

To his great astonishment Raoul found himself at his ease with her as he
discussed the necessity of steady labour and the uselessness of sitting
down and waiting for inspiration. In the heat of the argument they
reached the Rue Louise. The violin was handed in, and they turned back
again towards