lifted her head, sank back upon her heels, and raised her arms to the
offending cobweb of black meshes, while her husband went on in a tone
not absolutely denuded of reproach:

"You've been in some time."

"Yes,"--she stuck the first pin into the upholstery of the sofa,--"but
Pringle told me Mathilde had a visitor, and I thought it was my duty to
stop and be a little parental."

"A young man?"

"Yes. I forget his name--just like all these young men nowadays, alert
and a little too much at his ease, but amusing in his way. He said, among
other things--"

But Farron, it appeared, was not exclusively interested in the words of
Mathilde's visitor; for at this instant, perceiving that his wife had
disengaged herself from her veil, he sat up, caught her to him, and
pressed his lips to hers.

"O Adelaide!" he said, and it seemed to her he spoke with a sort of
agony.

She held him away from her.

"Vincent, what is it?" she asked.

"What is what?"