"Oh, yes you could!" laughed Edna.

She was not surprised at Mademoiselle Reisz's question the morning that

lady, following her to the beach, tapped her on the shoulder and asked

if she did not greatly miss her young friend.

"Oh, good morning, Mademoiselle; is it you? Why, of course I miss

Robert. Are you going down to bathe?"

"Why should I go down to bathe at the very end of the season when I

haven't been in the surf all summer," replied the woman, disagreeably.

"I beg your pardon," offered Edna, in some embarrassment, for she should

have remembered that Mademoiselle Reisz's avoidance of the water had

furnished a theme for much pleasantry. Some among them thought it was

on account of her false hair, or the dread of getting the violets wet,

while others attributed it to the natural aversion for water sometimes

believed to accompany the artistic temperament. Mademoiselle offered

Edna some chocolates in a paper bag, which she took from her pocket,

by way of showing that she bore no ill feeling. She habitually ate

chocolates for their sustaining quality; they contained much nutriment

in small compass, she said. They saved her from starvation, as Madame

Lebrun's table was utterly impossible; and no one save so impertinent a

woman as Madame Lebrun could think of offering such food to people and

requiring them to pay for it.

"She must feel very lonely without her son," said Edna, desiring to

change the subject. "Her favorite son, too. It must have been quite hard

to let him go."

Mademoiselle laughed maliciously.

"Her favorite son! Oh, dear! Who could have been imposing such a tale

upon you? Aline Lebrun lives for Victor, and for Victor alone. She has

spoiled him into the worthless creature he is. She worships him and the

ground he walks on. Robert is very well in a way, to give up all the

money he can earn to the family, and keep the barest pittance for

himself. Favorite son, indeed! I miss the poor fellow myself, my dear. I

liked to see him and to hear him about the place the only Lebrun who is

worth a pinch of salt. He comes to see me often in the city. I like

to play to him. That Victor! hanging would be too good for him. It's a

wonder Robert hasn't beaten him to death long ago."

"I thought he had great patience with his brother," offered Edna, glad

to be talking about Robert, no matter what was said.

"Oh! he thrashed him well enough a year or two ago," said Mademoiselle.

"It was about a Spanish girl, whom Victor considered that he had some

sort of claim upon. He met Robert one day talking to the girl, or

walking with her, or bathing with her, or carrying her basket--I don't

remember what;--and he became so insulting and abusive that Robert gave

him a thrashing on the spot that has kept him comparatively in order for

a good while. It's about time he was getting another."




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