"Do they know mademoiselle?"

"Indeed, yes! They are the best of her very few friends. But--the
Atlantic rolls between."

Chester went out. In the rear door Ovide's wife appeared, knitting.
"Any close-ter?" she asked over her silver-bowed spectacles.

"Some," he said, taking down _Poole's Index_.

She came to his side and they placidly conversed. As she began to
leave him, "No," she said, "we kin wish, but we mustn' meddle. All any
of us want' or got any rights to want is to see 'em on speakin' terms.
F'om dat on, hands off. Leave de rest to de fitness o' things, de
everlast'n' fitness o' things!"




VII

At the Castanados', the second evening after, Chester was welcomed into
a specially pretty living-room. But he found three other visitors.
Madame, seated on a sort of sofa for one, made no effort to rise. Her
face, for all its breadth, was sweet in repose and sweeter when she
spoke or smiled. Her hands were comparatively small and the play of
her vast arms was graceful as she said to a slim, tallish, comely woman
with an abundance of soft, well-arranged hair: