She herself, and one other there, recognized the interposition of something akin to tragedy. She dropped beside the chair, sat cross-legged, and laughed at the futile jade-coloured wall. “Oh, but life is difficult!” she groaned. Sheppard, smiling through her tears. The carte de jour was before Monsieur. During the previous night he had been restless; and in the lonely dragging hours his thoughts had raced in an endless circle—action without progress. ‘But it is idiot. The chance it is the same for both. ’ ‘Good. Celeste introduced him to me—oh, how Celeste hated me! She must have known. Forgetting her occupation in her anger, she left off bathing Darrell's wrist; and, squeezing his arm so tightly that the boy winced with pain, she clapped her right hand upon her hip, and turned, with flashing eyes and an inflamed countenance, towards her crest-fallen spouse. ‘Now I see that you are mad indeed.
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