and they leave the room together. The company look at each other. Most of them smile, and shrug their shoulders.)
Doucet (twirling his moustache). "C'est un impertinent."
Morin (laughing) "He is American, mon cher—c'est tout. All the same, I respect him. He has the courage of his opinions. He is not amusing—no. But when he does speak, he says what he thinks. It is a pity that what he thinks is stupid."
******
Elizabeth, meantime, is in her own room, composing a reply, which is not easy, to the letter she received two days ago from Uncle William. Here it is, a curious document, penned evidently with mental difficulty, and almost pathetic in its blind groping for something tangible which should account for Elizabeth's flight.
"My dear Girl,
"We are awfully cut up, your aunt and I, at your extraordinary conduct. We thought we were doing all we could to make you happy here. And the marriage with Colonel Wybrowe seemed the very thing to suit you. Such a good fellow, whom your aunt and I think so highly of! He is gone away, of course, very down in the mouth at your treatment of him, which he cannot make out about—I mean what he has done to offend you—a bit more than we can. I never had anything that vexed me and surprised me more. What would your poor father say, if he was alive, at your running away, in this mad manner, without letting us know? If you want to be alone, why should you not go back and live
