At The Villa Rose

To Celia the sound of the jargon learnt from her own lips, used by

herself so thoughtlessly in past times, was odious. "For the last

time," she pleaded to herself. All her life was going to change;

though no word had yet been spoken by Harry Wethermill, she was

sure of it. Just for this one last time, then, so that she might

leave Mme. Dauvray the colours of her belief, she would hold a

seance at the Villa Rose.

Mme. Dauvray told the news to Helene Vauquier when they reached

the villa.

"You will be present, Helene," she cried excitedly. "It will be

Tuesday. There will be the three of us."

"Certainly, if madame wishes," said Helene submissively. She

looked round the room. "Mlle. Celie can be placed on a chair in

that recess and the curtains drawn, whilst we--madame and madame's

friend and I--can sit round this table under the side windows."

"Yes," said Celia, "that will do very well."

It was Madame Dauvray's habit when she was particularly pleased

with Celia to dismiss her maid quickly, and to send her to brush

the girl's hair at night; and in a little while on this night

Helene went to Celia's room. While she brushed Celia's hair she

told her that Servettaz's parents lived at Chambery, and that he

would like to see them.

"But the poor man is afraid to ask for a day," she said. "He has

been so short a time with madame."

"Of course madame will give him a holiday if he asks," replied

Celia with a smile. "I will speak to her myself to-morrow."

"It would be kind of mademoiselle," said Helene Vauquier. "But

perhaps--" She stopped.

"Well," said Celia.

"Perhaps mademoiselle would do better still to speak to Servattaz

himself and encourage him to ask with his own lips. Madame has her

moods, is it not so? She does not always like it to be forgotten

that she is the mistress."

On the next day accordingly Celia did speak to Servettaz, and

Servettaz asked for his holiday.

"But of course," Mme. Dauvray at once replied. "We must decide

upon a day."

It was then that Helene Vauquier ventured humbly upon a

suggestion.

"Since madame has a friend coming here on Tuesday, perhaps that

would be the best day for him to go. Madame would not be likely to

take a long drive that afternoon."

"No, indeed," replied Mme. Dauvray. "We shall all three dine

together early in Aix and return here."

"Then I will tell him he may go to-morrow," said Celia.

For this conversation took place on the Monday, and in the evening

Mme. Dauvray and Celia went as usual to the Villa des Fleurs and

dined there.

"I was in a bad mind," said Celia, when asked by the Juge

d'Instruction to explain that attack of nerves in the garden which

Ricardo had witnessed. "I hated more and more the thought of the

seance which was to take place on the morrow. I felt that I was

disloyal to Harry. My nerves were all tingling. I was not nice

that night at all," she added quaintly. "But at dinner I

determined that if I met Harry after dinner, as I was sure to do,

I would tell him the whole truth about myself. However, when I did

meet him I was frightened. I knew how stern he could suddenly

look. I dreaded what he would think. I was too afraid that I

should lose him. No, I could not speak; I had not the courage.

That made me still more angry with myself, and so I--I quarrelled

at once with Harry. He was surprised; but it was natural, wasn't

it? What else should one do under such circumstances. except

quarrel with the man one loved? Yes, I really quarrelled with him,

and said things which I thought and hoped would hurt. Then I ran

away from him lest I should break down and cry. I went to the

tables and lost at once all the money I had except one note of

five louis. But that did not console me. And I ran out into the

garden, very unhappy. There I behaved like a child, and Mr.

Ricardo saw me. But it was not the little money I had lost which

troubled me; no, it was the thought of what a coward I was.

Afterwards Harry and I made it up, and I thought, like the little

fool I was, that he wanted to ask me to marry him. But I would not

let him that night. Oh! I wanted him to ask me--I was longing for

him to ask me--but not that night. Somehow I felt that the seance

and the tricks must be all over and done with before I could

listen or answer."