The light-hearted gaiety of the young man amused Dora. A woman, although she does not countenance that love of independence in her husband, admires it in other men. I feel inclined to believe that women have a mingled feeling of admiration and respect for the man who has not been caught in the matrimonial toils. Dora was playing with the pansies that she had scattered on the table. "You see these flowers," she said suddenly to de Lussac, "well, there is an impenetrable mystery connected with them." "You don't say so," said he, noticing the comically majestic air she had assumed. "Yes! a real live mystery. On our wedding-day there arrived a bunch similar to this one. Who sent it? That is the mystery. On every anniversary of our marriage, we get another. Are the flowers for Philip or for me? More mystery. Philip says they are from some old admirer of mine; from some old sweetheart of his, I say. Still they come, and are always welcome." "I am not versed in the language of flowers," said de Lussac, "but I fancy I remember a little verse, beginning something after this fashion-- Pansies for thought-- Love lies bleeding. I cannot recollect the words exactly, but perhaps there is a bleeding heart somewhere. Oh, this is terrible of me," exclaimed de Lussac, again looking at his watch; "it is eleven o'clock, and I am still here chattering. I ought to be at the Embassy; I must really go. Will you be kind enough to tell your husband that I will send him a wire as soon as I know something definite?--no, no, I will come myself." "About what?" said Dora. "Oh! about something--which concerns me." He shook hands with Dora and went out hurriedly. Dora, left alone, began to arrange the flowers. The pansy was a flower which fascinated her, and suggested to her mind all kinds of fantastic faces. She seemed to see sad and solemn ones, some smiling and gay, others saucy; they represented to her a perfect gallery of weird faces. She chose some of the best, made them into a little bouquet for Philip to paint in her picture. Taking away one or two that did not harmonise with her dress, she placed the bunch on her husband's easel. "Oh, what pretty flowers!" shouted Eva, who had just come into the studio, followed by Hobbs. She was dressed to go out for her daily morning walk. "Mama, aren't you coming out for a walk with us?" "No, my sweet," replied Dora; "I cannot this morning. You know that daddy is going to finish my picture this morning, so I must stay with him; he will want me." "You are always with daddy," said Eva, pouting. "You never come for a walk with me." "How can you say such things? You know I go out very often with you--but I can't to-day. To-morrow, yes! to-morrow. Come, be a good little girl." "A good little girl," said Eva, sighing, "that's what you always say to me." "When I was a little girl," said Dora, trying to look serious, "I, too, had to be good, you know."