"Did you ever meet him there?" went on Elsie.
"I used to know a family called McAllister a long time ago, when I was quite young."
"Indeed? But, mademoiselle, don't talk as if you were a hundred. I'm sure you don't look much older than I."
"In years, perhaps, I am not so very much older; but in thought, Elsie, a century."
"Poor Mademoiselle Laurentia, your life has been a hard one, in spite of all its success. I don't want to intrude, but I often think you must have had some great sorrow. Have you?"
"Yes, my dear, I have. I cannot talk of it to-night, though. No, no, not to-night at any rate."
Elsie rather wondered why she laid such particular stress on the present time, but did not like to pursue the subject.
"Elsie, would you like me to sing for you now?" asked Mademoiselle Laurentia suddenly. "This garden is an inspiration."
"Yes, I should, above all things, if you feel well enough."
"Then what shall it be? Choose."