to the day-dream.

She never quite knew how it happened that a moment later he was bending
over the back of her chair, with her face upturned to his, and his lips--
With that touch thrilling her, she sprang to her feet, and turned away
from him towards the table. Her face was glowing like a peony, and a
troubled light came into her eyes. He came over to her, after a moment,
and spoke over her shoulders as he just touched her waist with his
fingers.

"A la bonne heure--Sophie!"

"Oh, it isn't--it isn't right," she said, her body slightly inclining
from him.

"One minute out of a whole life--What does it matter! Ce ne fait rien!
Good-bye-Sophie."

Now she inclined towards him. He was about to put his arms round her,
when he heard the distant sound of a horse's hoofs. He let her go, and
turned towards the front door. Through it he saw Christine driving up
the road. She would pass the house.

"Good-bye-Sophie," he said again over her shoulder, softly; and, picking
up his hat and stick, he left the house.

Her eyes followed him dreamily as he went up the road. She sat down in
a chair, the trance of the passionate moment still on her, and began to
brood. She vaguely heard the rattle of a buggy--Christine's--as it
passed the house, and her thoughts drifted into a new-discovered