Itwassomuchmoreregularandnaturallikethat，and"her"babyinvestedwithhisproperdignity。Shewentdownstairstogeta"cupo’tea，"thinking:’Apicturetheymake——thattheydo，blesshislittleheart;andhisprettylittlemother——nomorethanachild，allsaidanddone。’
　　Noelhadbeenstandingtheresomeminutesinthefailinglight，absorbedinthefaceofthesleepingbaby，when，raisinghereyes，shesawinamirrortherefectionofherfather’sdarkfigurebythedoor。Shecouldhearhimbreathingasiftheascentofthestairshadtiredhim;andmovingtotheheadofthecot，sherestedherhandonit，andturnedherfacetowardshim。Hecameupandstoodbesideher，lookingsilentlydownatthebaby。ShesawhimmakethesignoftheCrossaboveit，andthemovementofhislipsinprayer。Loveforherfather，andrebellionagainstthisintercessionforherperfectbabyfoughtsohardinthegirl’sheartthatshefeltsuffocated，andgladofthedark，sothathecouldnotseehereyes。
　　Thenhetookherhandandputittohislips，butstillwithoutaword;andforthelifeofhershecouldnotspeakeither。Insilence，hekissedherforehead;andtheremountedinNoelasuddenpassionoflongingtoshowhimherprideandloveforherbaby。Sheputherfingerdownandtouchedoneofhishands。Thetinysleepingfingersuncurledand，likesomelittleseaanemone，clutchedroundit。Sheheardherfatherdrawhisbreathin;sawhimturnawayquickly，silently，andgoout。Andshestayed，hardlybreathing，withthehandofherbabysqueezingherfinger。
　　II
　　1
　　WhenEdwardPierson，afraidofhisownemotion，leftthetwilitnursery，heslippedintohisownroom，andfellonhiskneesbesidehisbed，absorbedinthevisionhehadseen。ThatyoungfigureinMadonnablue，withthehaloofbrighthair;thesleepingbabeinthefinedusk;thesilence，theadorationinthatwhiteroom！Hesaw，too;avisionofthepast，whenNoelherselfhadbeenthesleepingbabewithinhermother’sarm，andhehadstoodbesidethem，wonderingandgivingpraise。Itpassedwithitsother—worldlinessandthefineholinesswhichbelongstobeauty，passedandleftthetormentingrealismoflife。Ah！tolivewithonlytheinnermeaning，spiritualandbeautifed，inararewondermentsuchashehadexperiencedjustnow！
　　Hisalarumclock，whilehekneltinhisnarrow，monkishlittleroom——
　　tickedtheeveninghourawayintodarkness。Andstillheknelt，dreadingtocomebackintoitall，tofacetheworld’seyes，andthesoundoftheworld’stongue，andthetouchoftherough，thegross，theunseemly。Howcouldheguardhischild？Howpreservethatvisioninherlife，inherspirit，abouttoentersuchcold，roughwaters？Butthegongsounded;hegotup，andwentdownstairs。
　　Butthisfirstfamilymoment，whichallhaddreaded，wasrelieved，asdreadedmomentssooftenare，bytheunexpectedappearanceoftheBelgianpainter。Hehadageneralinvitation，ofwhichheoftenavailedhimself;buthewassosilent，andhisthin，beardlessface，whichseemedalleyesandbrow，somournful，thatallthreefeltinthepresenceofasorrowdeepereventhantheirownfamilygrief。
　　DuringthemealhegazedsilentlyatNoel。Oncehesaid:"Youwillletmepaintyounow，mademoiselle，Ihope？"andhisfacebrightenedalittlewhenshenodded。Therewasnevermuchtalkwhenhecame，foranydepthofdiscussion，evenofart，broughtoutatoncetoowideadifference。AndPiersoncouldneveravoidavagueirritationwithonewhoclearlyhadspirituality，butofasortwhichhecouldnotunderstand。Afterdinnerheexcusedhimself，andwentofftohisstudy。Monsieurwouldbehappieralonewiththetwogirls！Gratian，too，gotup。ShehadrememberedNoel’swords:"Imindhimlessthananybody。"ItwasachanceforNollietobreaktheice。
　　2
　　"Ihavenotseenyouforalongtime，mademoiselle，"saidthepainter，whentheywerealone。
　　Noelwassittinginfrontoftheemptydrawing—roomhearth，withherarmsstretchedoutasiftherehadbeenafirethere。
　　"I’vebeenaway。Howareyougoingtopaintme，monsieur？"
　　"Inthatdress，mademoiselle;Justasyouarenow，warmingyourselfatthefireoflife。"
　　"Butitisn’tthere。"
　　"Yes，firessoongoout。Mademoiselle，willyoucomeandseemywife？Sheisill。"
　　"Now？"askedNoel，startled。
　　"Yes，now。Sheisreallyill，andIhavenoonethere。ThatiswhatIcametoaskofyoursister;but——nowyouarehere，it’sevenbetter。Shelikesyou。"
　　Noelgotup。"Waitoneminute！"shesaid，andranupstairs。Herbabywasasleep，andtheoldnursedozing。Puttingonacloakandcapofgreyrabbit’sfur，sherandownagaintothehallwherethepainterwaswaiting;andtheywentouttogether。
　　"IdonotknowifIamtoblame，"hesaid，"mywifehasbeennorealwifetomesincesheknewIhadamistressandwasnorealhusbandtoher。"
　　Noelstaredroundathisfacelightedbyaqueer，smile。
　　"Yes，"hewenton，"fromthathascomehertragedy。ButsheshouldhaveknownbeforeImarriedher。Nothingwasconcealed。BonDieu！
　　sheshouldhaveknown！Whycannotawomanseethingsastheyare？
　　Mymistress，mademoiselle，isnotathingofflesh。Itismyart。
　　Ithasalwaysbeenfirstwithme，andalwayswill。Shehasneveracceptedthat，sheisincapableofacceptingit。Iamsorryforher。
　　Butwhatwouldyou？Iwasafooltomarryher。Cheremademoiselle，notroublesareanythingbesidethetroublewhichgoesondayandnight，mealaftermeal，year，afteryear，betweentwopeoplewhoshouldneverhavemarried，becauseonelovestoomuchandrequiresall，andtheotherlovesnotatall——no，notatall，now，itislongdead——andcangivebutlittle。"
　　"Can’tyouseparate？"askedNoel，wondering。
　　"Itishardtoseparatefromonewhocravesforyouasshecravesherdrugs——yes，shetakesdrugsnow，mademoiselle。Itisimpossibleforonewhohasanycompassioninhissoul。Besides，whatwouldshedo？
　　Welivefromhandtomouth，inastrangeland。Shehasnofriendshere，notone。HowcouldIleaveherwhilethiswarlasts？Aswellcouldtwopersonsonadesertislandseparate。Sheiskillingherself，too，withthesedrugs，andIcannotstopher。"
　　"Poormadame！"murmuredNoel。"Poormonsieur！"
　　Thepainterdrewhishandacrosshiseyes。
　　"Icannotchangemynature，"hesaidinastifledvoice，"norshehers。Sowegoon。Butlifewillstopsuddenlysomedayforoneofus。Afterall，itismuchworseforherthanforme。Enter，mademoiselle。DonottellherIamgoingtopaintyou;shelikesyou，becauseyourefusedtoletme。"
　　Noelwentupthestairs，shuddering;shehadbeenthereoncebefore，andrememberedthatsicklyscentofdrugs。Onthethirdfloortheyenteredasmallsitting—roomwhosewallswerecoveredwithpaintingsanddrawings;fromonecorneratriangularstackofcanvasesjuttedout。Therewaslittlefurnituresaveanoldredsofa，andonthiswasseatedastoutishmaninthegarbofaBelgiansoldier，withhiselbowsonhiskneesandhisbeardedcheeksrestingonhisdoubledfists。Besidehimonthesofa，nursingadoll，wasalittlegirl，wholookedupatNoel。Shehadamoststrange，attractive，palelittleface，withpointedchinandlargeeyes，whichnevermovedfromthisapparitioningreyrabbits’skins。
　　"Ah，Barra！Youhere！"saidthepainter:
　　"Mademoiselle，thisisMonsieurBarra，afriendofoursfromthefront;andthisisourlandlady’slittlegirl。Alittlerefugee，too，aren’tyou，Chica？"
　　Thechildgavehimasuddenbrilliantsmileandresumedhergravescrutinyofthevisitor。Thesoldier，whohadrisenheavily，offeredNoeloneofhispodgyhands，withasadandheavygiggle。
　　"Sitdown，mademoiselle，"saidLavendie，placingachairforher:"I
　　willbringmywifein，"andhewentoutthroughsomedoubledoors。
　　Noelsatdown。Thesoldierhadresumedhisoldattitude，andthelittlegirlhernursingofthedoll，thoughherbigeyesstillwatchedthevisitor。Overcomebystrangeness，Noelmadenoattempttotalk。Andpresentlythroughthedoubledoorsthepainterandhiswifecamein。Shewasathinwomaninaredwrapper，withhollowcheeks，highcheek—bones，andhungryeyes;herdarkhairhungloose，andonehandplayedrestlesslywithafoldofhergown。ShetookNoel’shand;andherupliftedeyesseemedtodigintothegirl’sface，toletgosuddenly，andflutter。
　　"Howdoyoudo？"shesaidinEnglish。"SoPierrebroughtyou，toseemeagain。Irememberyousowell。Youwouldnotlethimpaintyou。Ah！quec’estdrole！Youaresopretty，too。Hein，MonsieurBarra，isnotmademoisellepretty？"
　　Thesoldiergavehisheavygiggle，andresumedhisscrutinyofthefloor。
　　"Henriette，"saidLavendie，"sitdownbesideChica——youmustnotstand。Sitdown，mademoiselle，Ibeg。"
　　"I’msosorryyou’renotwell，"saidNoel，andsatdownagain。
　　Thepainterstoodleaningagainstthewall，andhiswifelookedupathistall，thinfigure，witheyeswhichhadinthemanger，andasortofcunning。
　　"Agreatpainter，myhusband，ishenot？"shesaidtoNoel。"Youwouldnotimaginewhatthatmancando。Andhowhepaints——alldaylong;andallnightinhishead。Andsoyouwouldnotlethimpaintyou，afterall？"
　　Lavendiesaidimpatiently:"Voyons，Henriette，causezd’autrechose。"
　　Hiswifepluckednervouslyatafoldinherredgown，andgavehimthelookofadogthathasbeenrebuked。
　　"Iamaprisonerhere，mademoiselle，Ineverleavethehouse。HereI
　　livedayafterday——myhusbandisalwayspainting。Whowouldgooutaloneunderthisgreyskyofyours，andthehatredsofthewarineveryface？Iprefertokeepmyroom。Myhusbandgoespainting;
　　everyfaceheseesinterestshim，exceptthatwhichheseeseveryday。ButIamaprisoner。MonsieurBarraisourfirstvisitorforalongtime。"
　　Thesoldierraisedhisfacefromhisfists。"Prisonnier，madame！
　　Whatwouldyousayifyouwereoutthere？"Andhegavehisthickgiggle。"Wearetheprisoners，weothers。Whatwouldyousaytoimprisonmentbyexplosiondayandnight;neveraminutefree。Bom！
　　Bom！Bom！Ah！lestranchees！It’snotsofreeasallthat，there。"
　　"Everyonehashisownprison，"saidLavendiebitterly。
　　"Mademoiselleeven，hasherprison——andlittleChica，andherdoll。
　　Everyonehashisprison，Barra。MonsieurBarraisalsoapainter，mademoiselle。"
　　"Moi！"saidBarra，liftinghisheavyhairyhand。"Ipaintpuddles，star—bombs，horses’ribs——Ipaintholesandholesandholes，wireandwireandwire，andwater——longwhiteuglywater。Ipaintsplinters，andmen’ssoulsnaked，andmen’sbodiesdead，andnightmare——
　　nightmare——alldayandallnight——Ipainttheminmyhead。"Hesuddenlyceasedspeakingandrelapsedintocontemplationofthecarpet，withhisbeardedcheeksrestingonhisfists。"Andtheirsoulsaswhiteassnow，lescamarades，"headdedsuddenlyandloudly，"millionsofBelgians，English，French，eventheBoches，withwhitesouls。Ipaintthosesouls！"
　　AlittleshiverranthroughNoel，andshelookedappealinglyatLavendie。
　　"Barra，"hesaid，asifthesoldierwerenotthere，"isagreatpainter，buttheFronthasturnedhisheadalittle。Whathesaysistrue，though。Thereisnohatredoutthere。Itisherethatweareprisonersofhatred，mademoiselle;avoidhatreds——theyarepoison！"
　　Hiswifeputoutherhandandtouchedthechild’sshoulder。
　　"Whyshouldwenothate？"shesaid。"WhokilledChica’sfather，andblewherhometo—rags？WhothrewheroutintothishorribleEngland—
　　—pardon，mademoiselle，butitishorrible。Ah！lesBoches！Ifmyhatredcoulddestroythemtherewouldnotbeoneleft。Evenmyhusbandwasnotsomadabouthispaintingwhenwelivedathome。Buthere——！"Hereyesdartedathisfaceagain，andthensankasifrebuked。Noelsawthepainter’slipsmove。Thesickwoman’swholefigurewrithed。
　　"Itismania，yourpainting！"ShelookedatNoelwithasmile。
　　"Willyouhavesometea，mademoiselle？MonsieurBarra，sometea？"
　　Thesoldiersaidthickly:"No，madame;inthetrencheswehaveteaenough。Itconsolesus。Butwhenwegetaway——giveuswine，lebonvin;lebonpetitvin！"
　　"Getsomewine，Pierre！"
　　Noelsawfromthepainter’sfacethattherewasnowine，andperhapsnomoneytogetany;buthewentquicklyout。Sheroseandsaid:
　　"Imustbegoing，madame。"
　　MadameLavendieleanedforwardandclutchedherwrist。"Waitalittle，mademoiselle。Weshallhavesomewine，andPierreshalltakeyoubackpresently。Youcannotgohomealone——youaretoopretty。
　　Isshenot，MonsieurBarra？"
　　Thesoldierlookedup:"Whatwouldyousay，"hesaid，"tobottlesofwineburstingintheair，burstingredandburstingwhite，alldaylong，allnightlong？Greatsteelbottles，largeasChica:bitsofbottles，carryingoffmen’sheads？Bsum，garra—a—a，andahousecomesdown，andlittlebitsofpeopleeversosmall，eversosmall，tinybitsintheairandallovertheground。Greatsoulsoutthere，madame。ButIwilltellyouasecret，"andagainhegavehisheavygiggle，"allalittle，littlemad;nothingtospeakof——justalittlebitmad;likeawatch，youknow，thatyoucanwindforever。Thatisthediscoveryofthiswar，mademoiselle，"hesaid，addressingNoelforthefirsttime，"youcannotgainagreatsoultillyouarealittlemad。"Andloweringhispiggygreyeyesatonce，heresumedhisformerattitude。"ItisthatmadnessIshallpaintsomeday，"heannouncedtothecarpet;"lurkinginonetinycornerofeachsoulofallthosemillions，asitcreeps，asitpeeps，eversosudden，eversolittlewhenweallthinkithasbeenputtobed，here——there，now——then，whenyouleastthink;inandoutlikeamousewithbrighteyes。Millionsofmenwithwhitesouls，allalittlemad。Agreatsubject，Ithink，"headdedheavily。InvoluntarilyNoelputherhandtoherheart，whichwasbeatingfast。Shefeltquitesick。
　　"HowlonghaveyoubeenattheFront，monsieur？"
　　"Twoyears，mademoiselle。Timetogohomeandpaint，isitnot？Butart——！"heshruggedhisheavyroundshoulders，hiswholebear—likebody。"Alittlemad，"hemutteredoncemore。"Iwilltellyouastory。OnceinwinterafterIhadrestedafortnight，Igobacktothetrenchesatnight，andIwantsomeearthtofillupaholeinthegroundwhereIwassleeping;whenonehassleptinabedonebecomesparticular。Well，Iscratchitfrommyparapet，andIcometosomethingfunny。Istrikemybriquet，andthereisaBoche’sfaceallfrozenandearthyanddeadandgreeny—whiteintheflamefrommybriquet。"
　　"Oh，no！"
　　"Oh！butyes，mademoiselle;trueasIsithere。Veryusefulintheparapet——deadBoche。Onceamanlikeme。ButinthemorningIcouldnotstandhim;wedughimoutandburiedhim，andfilledtheholeupwithotherthings。ButthereIstoodinthenight，andmyfaceasclosetohisasthis"——andheheldhisthickhandafootbeforehisface。"Wetalkedofourhomes;hehadasoul，thatman。Ilmedisaitdescboses，howhehadsuffered;andI，too，toldhimmysufferings。DearGod，weknowall;weshallneverknowmorethanweknowoutthere，weothers，forwearemad——nothingtospeakof，butjustalittle，littlemad。Whenyouseeus，mademoiselle，walkingthestreets，rememberthat。"Andhedroppedhisfaceontohisfistsagain。
　　Asilencehadfallenintheroom—veryqueerandcomplete。Thelittlegirlnursedherdoll，thesoldiergazedatthefloor，thewoman’smouthmovedstealthily，andinNoelthethoughtrushedcontinuallytothevergeofaction:’Couldn’tIgetupandrundownstairs？’Butshesaton，hypnotisedbythatsilence，tillLavendiereappearedwithabottleandfourglasses。
　　"Todrinkourhealth，andwishusluck，mademoiselle，"hesaid。
　　Noelraisedtheglasshehadgivenher。"Iwishyouallhappiness。"
　　"Andyou，mademoiselle，"thetwomenmurmured。
　　Shedrankalittle，androse。
　　"Andnow，mademoiselle，"saidLavendie，"ifyoumustgo，Iwillseeyouhome。"
　　NoeltookMadameLavendie’shand;itwascold，andreturnednopressure;hereyeshadtheglazedlookthatsheremembered。Thesoldierhadputhisemptyglassdownonthefloor，andwasregardingitunconsciousofher。Noelturnedquicklytothedoor;thelastthingshesawwasthelittlegirlnursingherdoll。
　　InthestreetthepainterbeganatonceinhisrapidFrench:
　　’Ioughtnottohaveaskedyoutocome，mademoiselle;IdidnotknowourfriendBarrawasthere。Besides，mywifeisnotfittoreceivealady;vousvoyezqu’ilyadelamaniedanscettepauvretote。I
　　shouldnothaveaskedyou;butIwassomiserable。"
　　"Oh！"murmuredNoel，"Iknow。"
　　"Inourhomeoverthereshehadinterests。Inthisgreattownshecanonlynursehergriefagainstme。Ah！thiswar！Itseemstomeweareallinthestomachofagreatcoilingserpent。Weliethere，beingdigested。Inawayitisbetteroutthereinthetrenches;
　　theyarebeyondhate，theyhaveattainedaheightthatwehavenot。
　　ItiswonderfulhowtheystillcanbeforgoingontilltheyhavebeatentheBoche;thatiscuriousanditisverygreat。DidBarratellyouhow，whentheycomeback——allthesefighters——theyaregoingtorule，andmanagethefutureoftheworld？Butitwillnotbeso。
　　Theywillmixinwithlife，separate——bescattered，andtheywillberuledastheywerebefore。Thetongueandthepenwillrulethem:
　　thosewhohavenotseenthewarwillrulethem。"
　　"Oh！"’criedNoel，"surelytheywillbethebravestandstrongestinthefuture。"
　　Thepaintersmiled。
　　"Warmakesmensimple，"hesaid，"elemental;lifeinpeaceisneithersimplenorelemental，itissubtle，fullofchangingenvironments，towhichmanmustadapthimself;thecunning，theastute，theadaptable，willeverruleintimesofpeace。Itispathetic，thebeliefofthosebravesoldiersthatthe—futureistheirs。"
　　"Hesaid，astrangething，"murmuredNoel;"thattheywereallalittlemad。"
　　"Heisamanofqueergenius——Barra;youshouldseesomeofhisearlierpictures。Madisnotquitetheword，butsomethingisloosened，israttlingroundinthem，theyhavelostproportion，theyarebeingforcedinonedirection。Itellyou，mademoiselle，thiswarisonegreatforcing—house;everylivingplantisbeingmadetogrowtoofast，eachquality，eachpassion;hateandlove，intoleranceandlustandavarice，courageandenergy;yes，andself—sacrifice——
　　allarebeingforcedandforcedbeyondtheirstrength，beyondthenaturalflowofthesap，forcedtilltherehascomeagreatwildluxuriantcrop，andthen——Psum！Presto！Thechangecomes，andtheseplantswillwitherandrotandstink。ButwewhoseeLifeinformsofArtaretheonlyoneswhofeelthat;andwearesofew。Thenaturalshapeofthingsislost。Thereisamistofbloodbeforealleyes。Menareafraidofbeingfair。Seehowweallhatenotonlyourenemies，butthosewhodifferfromus。Lookatthestreetstoo——seehowmenandwomenrushtogether，howVenusreignsinthisforcing—house。IsitnotnaturalthatYouthabouttodieshouldyearnforpleasure，forlove，forunion，beforedeath？"
　　Noelstaredupathim。’Now！’shethought:Iwill。’
　　"Yes，"shesaid，"Iknowthat’strue，becauseIrushed，myself。I’dlikeyoutoknow。Wecouldn’tbemarried——therewasn’ttime。And——
　　hewaskilled。Buthissonisalive。That’swhyI’vebeenawaysolong。Iwanteveryonetoknow。"Shespokeverycalmly，buthercheeksfeltburninghot。
　　Thepainterhadmadeanupwardmovementofhishands，asiftheyhadbeenjerkedbyanelectriccurrent，thenhesaidquitequietly:
　　"Myprofoundrespect，mademoiselle，andmygreatsympathy。Andyourfather？"
　　"It’sawfulforhim。"
　　Thepaintersaidgently:"Ah！mademoiselle，Iamnotsosure。
　　Perhapshedoesnotsuffersogreatly。Perhapsnotevenyourtroublecanhurthimverymuch。Helivesinaworldapart。That，Ithink，ishistruetragedytobealive，andyetnotlivingenoughtofeelreality。DoyouknowAnatoleFrance’sdescriptionofanoldwoman:
　　’Ellevivait，maissipeu。’WouldthatnotbewellsaidoftheChurchinthesedays:’Ellevivait，maissipeu。’Iseehimalwayslikearatherbeautifuldarkspireinthenight—timewhenyoucannotseehowitisattachedtotheearth。Hedoesnotknow，heneverwillknow，Life。"
　　Noellookedroundathim。"WhatdoyoumeanbyLife，monsieur？I’malwaysreadingaboutLife，andpeopletalkofseeingLife！Whatisit——whereisit？IneverseeanythingthatyoucouldcallLife。"
　　Thepaintersmiled。
　　"To’seelife’！"hesaid。"Ah！thatisdifferent。Toenjoyyourself！Well，itismyexperiencethatwhenpeopleare’seeinglife’astheycallit，theyarenotenjoyingthemselves。Youknowwhenoneisverythirstyonedrinksanddrinks，butthethirstremainsallthesame。Thereareplaceswhereonecanseelifeasitiscalled，buttheonlypersonsyouwillseeenjoyingthemselvesatsuchplacesareafewhumdrumslikemyself，whogothereforatalkoveracupofcoffee。Perhapsatyourage，though，itisdifferent。"
　　Noelclaspedherhands，andhereyesseemedtoshineinthegloom。
　　"Iwantmusicanddancingandlight，andbeautifulthingsandfaces;
　　butInevergetthem。"
　　"No，theredoesnotexistinthistown，orinanyother，aplacewhichwillgiveyouthat。Fox—trotsandragtimeandpaintandpowderandglareandhalf—drunkenyoungmen，andwomenwithredlipsyoucangettheminplenty。Butrhythmandbeautyandcharmnever。InBrusselswhenIwasyoungerIsawmuch’life’astheycallit，butnotonelovelythingunspoiled;itwasallasashesinthemouth。
　　Ah！youmaysmile，butIknowwhatIamtalkingof。Happinessnevercomeswhenyouarelookingforit，mademoiselle;beautyisinNatureandinrealart，neverinthesefalsesillymakebelieves。ThereisaplacejustherewhereweBelgiansgo;wouldyouliketoseehowtruemywordsare？
　　"Oh，yes！"
　　"Tres—bien！Letusgoin？"
　　Theypassedintoarevolvingdoorwaywithlittleglasscompartmentswhichshotthemoutintoashiningcorridor。AttheendofthisthepainterlookedatNoelandseemedtohesitate，thenheturnedofffromtheroomtheywereabouttoenterintoaroomontheright。Itwaslarge，fullofgiltandplushandmarbletables，wherecoupleswereseated;youngmeninkhakiandoldermeninplainclothes，togetherorwithyoungwomen。AttheselastNoellooked，faceafterface，whiletheywerepassingdownalongwaytoanemptytable。Shesawthatsomewerepretty，andsomeonlytryingtobe，thatnearlyallwerepowderedandhadtheireyesdarkenedandtheirlipsreddened，tillshefeltherownfacetobedreadfullyungarnished:Upinagalleryasmallbandwasplayinganattractivejinglinghollowlittletune;andthebuzzoftalkandlaughterwasalmostdeafening。
　　"Whatwillyouhave，mademoiselle？"saidthepainter。"Itisjustnineo’clock;wemustorderquickly。"
　　"MayIhaveoneofthosegreenthings？"
　　"Deuxcremesdementhe，"saidLavendietothewaiter。
　　Noelwastooabsorbedtoseethequeer，bitterlittlesmilehoveringabouthisface。Shewasbusylookingatthefacesofwomenwhoseeyes，furtivelycoldandenquiring，werefixedonher;andatthefacesofmenwitheyesthatwerefurtivelywarmandwondering。
　　"IwonderifDaddywaseverinaplacelikethis？"shesaid，puttingtheglassofgreenstufftoherlips。"Isitnice？Itsmellsofpeppermint。"
　　"Abeautifulcolour。Goodluck，mademoiselle！"andhechinkedhisglasswithhers。
　　Noelsipped，helditaway，andsippedagain。
　　"It’snice;butawfullysticky。MayIhaveacigarette？"
　　"Descigarettes，"saidLavendietothewaiter，"Etdeuxcafesnoirs。
　　Now，mademoiselle，"hemurmuredwhentheywerebrought，"ifweimaginethatwehavedrunkabottleofwineeach，weshallhaveexhaustedallthepreliminariesofwhatiscalledVice。Amusing，isn’tit？"Heshruggedhisshoulders。
　　HisfacestruckNoelsuddenlyastarnishedandalmostsullen。
　　"Don’tbeangry，monsieur，it’sallnewtome，yousee。"
　　Thepaintersmiled，hisbright，skin—deepsmile。
　　"Pardon！Iforgetmyself。Only，ithurtsmetoseebeautyinaplacelikethis。Itdoesnotgowellwiththattune，andthesevoices，andthesefaces。Enjoyyourself，mademoiselle;drinkitallin！Seethewaythesepeoplelookateachother;whatloveshinesintheireyes！Apity，too，wecannothearwhattheyaresaying。
　　Believeme，theirtalkismostsubtle，tres—spirituel。Theseyoungwomenare’doingtheirbit，’asyoucallit;bringingleplaisirtoallthesewhoareservingtheircountry。Eat，drink，love，fortomorrowwedie。Whocaresfortheworldsimpleortheworldbeautiful，indayslikethese？Thehouseofthespiritisempty。"
　　Hewaslookingathersidelongasifhewouldenterherverysoul。
　　Noelgotup。"I’mreadytogo，monsieur。"
　　Heputhercloakonhershoulders，paidthebill，andtheywentout，threadingagainthroughthelittletables，throughthebuzzoftalkandlaughterandthefumesoftobacco，whileanotherhollowlittletunejingledawaybehindthem。
　　"Throughthere，"saidthepainter，pointingtoanotherdoor，"theydance。Soitgoes。Londoninwar—time！Well，afterall，itisneververydifferent;nogreattownis。Didyouenjoyyoursightof’life，’mademoiselle？"
　　"Ithinkonemustdance，tobehappy。Isthatwhereyourfriendsgo？"
　　"Oh，no！Toaroommuchrougher，andplaydominoes，anddrinkcoffeeandbeer，andtalk。Theyhavenomoneytothrowaway。"
　　"Whydidn’tyoushowme？"
　　"Mademoiselle，inthatroomyoumightseesomeoneperhapswhomonedayyouwouldmeetagain;intheplacewevisitedyouweresafeenoughatleastIhopeso。"
　　Noelshrugged。"Isupposeitdoesn’tmatternow，whatIdo。"
　　Andarushofemotioncaughtatherthroat——awavefromthepast——themoonlitnight，thedarkoldAbbey，thewoodsandtheriver。Twotearsrolleddownhercheeks。
　　"Iwasthinkingof——something，"shesaidinamuffledvoice。"It’sallright。"
　　"Cheremademoiselle！"Lavendiemurmured;andallthewayhomehewastimidanddistressed。Shakinghishandatthedoor，shemurmured:
　　"I’msorryIwassuchafool;andthankyouawfully，monsieur。Goodnight。"
　　"Goodnight;andbetterdreams。Thereisagoodtimecoming——PeaceandHappinessoncemoreintheworld。ItwillnotalwaysbethisForcing—House。Goodnight，cheremademoiselle！"
　　Noelwentuptothenursery，andstolein。Anight—lightwasburning，Nurseandbabywerefastasleep。Shetiptoedthroughintoherownroom。Oncethere，shefeltsuddenlysotiredthatshecouldhardlyundress;andyetcuriouslyrested，asifwiththatrushofemotion，Cyrilandthepasthadslippedfromherforever。