"That he was coming back? No great news, ma foi. I wonder he did not
come long ago."
"But when, when?" cried Edna, impatiently. "He does not say when."
"He says 'very soon.' You know as much about it as I do; it is all in
the letter."
"But why? Why is he coming? Oh, if I thought--" and she snatched the
letter from the floor and turned the pages this way and that way,
looking for the reason, which was left untold.
"If I were young and in love with a man," said Mademoiselle, turning on
the stool and pressing her wiry hands between her knees as she looked
down at Edna, who sat on the floor holding the letter, "it seems to me
he would have to be some grand esprit; a man with lofty aims and ability
to reach them; one who stood high enough to attract the notice of his
fellow-men. It seems to me if I were young and in love I should never
deem a man of ordinary caliber worthy of my devotion."
"Now it is you who are telling lies and seeking to deceive me,
Mademoiselle; or else you have never been in love, and know nothing
about it. Why," went on Edna, clasping her knees and looking up into
Mademoiselle's twisted face, "do you suppose a woman knows why she
loves? Does she select? Does she say to herself: 'Go to! Here is a
distinguished statesman with presidential possibilities; I shall proceed
to fall in love with him.' Or, 'I shall set my heart upon this musician,
whose fame is on every tongue?' Or, 'This financier, who controls the
world's money markets?'
"You are purposely misunderstanding me, ma reine. Are you in love with
Robert?"
"Yes," said Edna. It was the first time she had admitted it, and a glow
overspread her face, blotching it with red spots.
"Why?" asked her companion. "Why do you love him when you ought not to?"
Edna, with a motion or two, dragged herself on her knees before
Mademoiselle Reisz, who took the glowing face between her two hands.
"Why? Because his hair is brown and grows away from his temples; because
he opens and shuts his eyes, and his nose is a little out of drawing;
because he has two lips and a square chin, and a little finger which he
can't straighten from having played baseball too energetically in his
youth. Because--"
"Because you do, in short," laughed Mademoiselle. "What will you do when
he comes back?" she asked.
"Do? Nothing, except feel glad and happy to be alive."