then, Auntie, you remember how eloquent he was about the hills and the
stars. That speech did not at all indicate a hothouse nature."

"Nevertheless, I think his sentiments have been cultivated, like his
orchids."

"Not a bad achievement," said Mélanie.

There was an interval of silence, while the younger woman stood looking
out of the window and Madame Reynier cut the leaves of a French
journal. She did not read, however, and presently she broke the
silence. "I don't remember that Mr. Van Camp ever sent orchids to you."

"Mr. Van Camp never gave me any kind of flower. He thinks flowers are
the most intimate of all gifts, and should only be exchanged between
sweethearts. At least, I heard him expound some such theory years ago,
when we first knew him."

Madame smiled--a significant smile, if any one had been looking.
Nothing further was said until Mélanie unexpectedly shot straight to
the mark with:

"How do you think he would do, Auntie, in place of Count Lorenzo?"

Madame Reynier showed no surprise. "He is a sterling man; but your
cousin would never consent to it."

"And if I should not consult my cousin?"

"My dear Mélanie, that would entail many embarrassing consequences; and