“You knew them both very well, of course?” asked Dr. Dakin, after quite a long silence. “When they were together, I mean.” “I was with them nearly every evening, when they entertained all the men best worth knowing, in Paris. It must have struck you that Anne is a woman of unusual mental distinction?” “She is a very brilliant woman.” “That is easily discernible when, as with you, she has a chance of real conversation. She has naturally a keen quick mind, and she learnt to talk in a very admirable school. “The evenings at the flat in the Rue de Fleurus are still remembered in Paris.” He smiled to himself, as though in thought he had gone back to those evenings. “I wish I could put before you doctor, the charm of their home life. There has been nothing like it since. That sounds terribly middle-aged, doesn’t it? I realize that I’m growing old, when I think of the society of twenty years ago, as incredibly brilliant and fascinating. “At any rate it was composed of the men and women who have since made their mark on our age. They are well known names, at any rate to a man like you who interests himself in our countrymen as well as in your own. “Among the painters there were Giroux, and Bussières, and Deslon. All men associated with the Impressionist movement. Thouret the novelist, and Dacier the poet, were intimate friends. They met Anne first at Fairholme Court, with me, and they were always devoted to her. Then there was Matignon the critic, a fine old man, who adored her. And Bellet, and Courtois--I could go on quoting indefinitely. They had a flat in the Rue de Fleurus, beautiful as only Anne knows how to make a home beautiful. It overlooked the Luxembourg gardens, and was close to my present studio. I remember it always full of sunshine, and I can see Anne arranging the flowers, (every room was full of flowers), and looking up from them to laugh. “She was so radiantly happy it was a joy to see her. And she grew so beautiful. She learnt to dress, of course. Beautiful dress is one of her instincts, as you see even now. What a hostess she was! She became the fashion in our set,--René’s and mine. The men raved about her. They found _piquante_, that touch of English shyness and modesty which she combines so oddly with dignity. She held a real salon, and a very brilliant one too, in the Rue de Fleurus. Those were her _beaux jours_.” “I can imagine it,” said the doctor. “That sort of _ménage_ is only possible in Paris,” observed François. “Even there, it’s not without its difficulties. But she surmounted them by her very unconsciousness and simplicity. Some of the women even, were won over. One or two of the wives of men in René’s circle were her intimate friends. They went to her as we all did, for advice and sympathy.” “Just as we all go now to be consoled,” put in Dr. Dakin. “Precisely. And one of the secrets of her power of drawing confidence, is that Anne is by nature a maternal woman--a mother.” “That’s the pity of it.”