When Susan arrived at Djenan-el-Maqui she found Charmian there alone.

Charmian greeted her eagerly, but looked at her anxiously, almost suspiciously, after the first kiss.

"Where's Adelaide? On the yacht?"

"She's gone to the Hotel St. George."

"Oh! Close to us! How long is she going to stay? Oh, Susan, why did you let her come?"

"I couldn't help it. But why need you mind?"

"Adelaide hates me!"

"Oh, no!"

"She does. And you know it."

"I really don't think she has time to hate you, Charmian. And Adelaide can be very kind."

"Your theosophy prevents you from allowing that there are any faults in your friends. Yes, Susan, it does."

"Have you read the manuals carefully?"

"Yes, but I can't think of them now. Adelaide's being here will spoil everything."

"No it won't! She'll only stay a day or two, not that, perhaps."

"But why did she come at all?"

"She didn't tell me. She's coming to see you to-day with Mr. Elliot."

"Max Elliot, too! Of course it is Claude whom Adelaide wants to see. I quite understand that. But he's not here."

"What has become of him?"

"Susan, you know of course he wished to welcome you. He is devoted to you. But--well, the truth is"--she slightly lowered her voice, although there was no one in the room--"he had to go away for the opera. He has gone to Constantine with Armand Gillier, the author of the libretto, to study the native music there, and military life, I believe. There is a big garrison at Constantine, you know. Monsieur Gillier is a most valuable friend for Claude, and can help him tremendously in many ways; with the opera, I mean."

She stopped. Then she added:

"Adelaide Shiffney might have been of great use to Claude, too. But before we were married he offended her, I think. And now, of course, she's on the other side."

"I don't know whether I quite understand what you mean."

"She's on Sennier's side."

It seemed to Susan Fleet that Charmian was living rather prematurely in a future that was somewhat problematic. But she only said:

"Don't let us make too much of it. I hoped you might learn from the manuals not to worry. But while I'm here we can talk them over, if you like."

"Yes, yes," said Charmian, changing, melting almost into happiness. "Oh, I am glad you've come, even though it entails Adelaide for a day or two.

Of course she knows about the opera?"

"Yes, she does."

"I knew." She looked into Susan's face, smiled, and concluded: "Never mind!"

At five o'clock that day the peace of Djenan-el-Maqui was broken by the sound of animated voices in the courtyard. A bell jangled and a moment later Pierre, with his most birdlike demeanor, ushered into the drawing-room Mrs. Shiffney, Madame Sennier, her husband, and Max Elliot.

"What a dear little house!" said Mrs. Shiffney, looking quickly round her with searching eyes, while they waited for their hostess. "Nothing worth twopence-halfpenny, but nothing wrong. I declare I quite envy them."

"It's charming!" said Max Elliot.

"Love in a harem! Better than in a cottage."

Madame Sennier pushed up her huge floating veil and showed her powerful face of a clown covered with white pigment. Her lips made a scarlet bar across it.

"What is she like? I remember the man. He's clever."

"Oh, she--she is charming; thin and charming."

"That's well!" observed the composer. "That's very well."

He appeared to have quite recovered from his despair, and now looked almost defiantly cheerful. Small in body, with a narrow chest and shoulders, and a weakly growing beard, he was nevertheless remarkable, even striking in appearance. His large nose suggested Semitic blood, but also power, which was shown, too, in his immense forehead and strong, energetic head. He had a habit of blinking his eyes. But they were fine eyes, full of feeling, imagination, and emotion, but also at moments full of sarcasm and shrewdness. His dark, hairy and small hands were rather monkeylike, and looked destructive.

"Every woman should be thin and charming," he continued. "The camel species, the elephant-type, the cowlike ruminating specimen--milky mother of the lowing herd, as an English poet has expressed it, and very well, too--should"--he flung out one little hairy hand vehemently--"_go_ with the advance of corset-makers and civilization. She comes!"

The door had opened, and Charmian came in.

Instantly her eyes fastened on Madame Sennier.

She was so surprised that she stood still by the door, and her whole face was suffused with blood. So much had this woman meant, did she still mean in Charmian's life, that even the habit of the world did not help Charmian to complete self-control at this moment.

"I'm afraid our coming has quite startled you," said Mrs. Shiffney.

"Didn't Susan tell you we were going to look in?"

"Yes, of course. I'm delighted!"

Charmian moved. She was secretly furious with herself.

Max Elliot took her hand, and Mrs. Shiffney carelessly introduced the Senniers.

"What a dear little retreat you've found here, and how deliciously you've arranged everything," she said. "You've made a perfect nest for your genius. We are all longing to see him."

They were sitting now. Charmian was on a divan beside Madame Sennier.

"A clever man!" said Madame Sennier, decisively. "I met him once at the opera. You remember, Jacques, I told you what he said about your orchestration?"

"Yes, yes, about my use of the flutes in connection with muted strings and the horns to give the effect of water."