"Oh, just now, mamma, let us talk first. Come and sit here, Noemi. There--we have a lot of little secrets, so many things that have happened since we last met to tell each other about--it is ages ago." And Renee began prattling and chirping away with Noemi. Their conversation sounded like the fresh, clear, never-ending babbling of a brook, breaking off now and again in a peal of laughter and dying away in a whisper. Noemi, who was very guarded at first, soon gave herself up to the delight of confiding in her friend and of listening to this voice which brought back so many memories of the past. They asked each other, as one does after a long absence, about all that had happened and what they had each been doing. At the end of half an hour, to judge by their conversation, one would have said they were two young women who had suddenly become children again together. "I go in for painting," said Renee, "what do you do? You used to have a beautiful voice." "Oh, don't mention that," said Noemi. "They make me sing. Mamma insists on my singing at her big parties--and you've no idea how dreadful it is. When I see every one looking at me, a shiver runs through me. Oh, I'm so frightened--the first few times I burst out crying----" "Well, we'll have a little refreshment now. I've saved a green apple for you that I was going to eat myself. I hope you still like green apples?" "No, thanks, Renee dear, I'm not hungry, really." "I say, Denoisel, what can you see that is so interesting--through that window?" Denoisel was watching the Bourjot's footman in the garden. He had seen him dust the bench with a fine cambric handkerchief, spread the handkerchief over the green laths, sit down on it in a gingerly way in his red velvet breeches, cross his legs, take a cigar out of his pocket and light it. He was now looking at this man as he sat there smoking in an insolent, majestic way, glancing round at this small estate with the supercilious expression of a servant whose master lives in a mansion and owns a park. "Why, nothing at all," said Denoisel, coming away from the window; "I was afraid of intruding." "We have told each other all our secrets now; so you can come and talk to us." "You know what time it is, Renee?" put in Mme. Mauperin. "If you want to begin the rehearsal to-day----" "Oh, mamma, please--it's so warm to-day--and then, too, it's Friday." "And the year began on a 13th," remarked Denoisel gravely. "Ah!" said Noemi, looking at him with her trustful eyes. "Don't listen to him--he's taking you in. He plays jokes of that kind on you all day long--Denoisel does. We'll rehearse next time you come, shall we?--there's plenty of time." "As you like," answered Noemi. "Very well, then; we'll take a holiday. Denoisel, be funny--at once. And if you are very funny--very, very funny--I'll give you a picture--one of my own----" "Another?" "Oh, well, you are polite--I work myself to death----"