go to bed, Justine. I shall not want you again to-night. But I shall
change my dress. It is so unpleasant; I hate blood. I hope you will be
well in the morning."

To this Justine replied: "Ah, madame, I am sorry. I could not help it;
but I shall be quite well in the morning, I am sure." Then she added
quietly to me: "The poor madame! She will not see suffering. She hates
pain. Sickness troubles her. Shall I be able to use my hand very soon,
monsieur?"

There was a wistful look in her eyes, and guessing why it was there, I
said: "Yes, soon, I hope--in a few days, no doubt."

Her face lighted up, and she said: "Madame likes about her people who are
happy and well." Then, as if she might have said too much, she hurriedly
added: "But she is very kind;" and, stooping down quickly, her face
whitening with the effort, she caught up the broken glass and threw it
through the port-hole into the sea.

A half-hour later I went on deck, and found Mrs. Falchion comfortably
seated in her deck-chair. I brought a stool over, and sat down beside
her. To this hour the quickness with which I got upon friendly terms
with her astonishes me.

"Justine is better?" she said, and her hand made a slight motion of
disgust.

"Yes. She was not dangerously hurt, of course."

"Let us change the subject, please. They are going to have a fancy-dress