When he was gone, Mathilde went and stood at the window, looking out, and
tying knots in the window-shade's cord. It was a trick Adelaide had
always objected to, and she was quite surprised to hear herself saying
now, just as usual:

"Mathilde, don't tie knots in that cord."

Mathilde threw it from her as one whose mind was engaged on higher
things.

"You know," she observed, "I believe I'm only just beginning to
appreciate Mr. Farron. He's so wise. I see what you meant about his being
strong, and he's so clever. He knows just what you're thinking all the
time. Isn't it nice that he likes Pete? Did he say anything more about
him after you went up-stairs? I mean, he really does like him, doesn't
he? He doesn't say that just to please me?"

Presently Vincent came back fully dressed and sat down to his breakfast.
Oddly enough, there was a spirit of real gaiety in the air.

"What was it you were going to say to me?" Mathilde asked greedily.
Farron looked at her blankly. Adelaide knew that he had quite forgotten
the phrase, but he concealed the fact by not allowing the least
illumination of his expression as he remembered.

"Oh, yes," he said. "I wish to correct myself. I told you that Mrs.
Wayne was an elderly wood-nymph; but I was wrong. Of course the truth is
that she's a very young witch."

Mathilde laughed, but not whole-heartedly. She had already identified