"I find Miss Belle-bouche always engaged in some graceful occupation," he said mournfully; "she is either reading the poets, or writing poetry herself in all the colors of the rainbow."
The beauty treated this well-timed compliment with a smile.
"Oh, no," she said; "I am only working a screen."
"It is very pretty."
"Do you think so?"
"Yes."
And then Jacques paused; his conversation as usual dried up like a fountain at midsummer. He made a desperate effort.
"I thought I heard you singing as I entered," he said.
"Yes, I believe I was," smiled Belle-bouche.
"What music was so happy?" Jacques sighed.