the next day christine came again, and although she was comforted by the fact that the baby still seemed better noel thought he had never seen or imagined such absolute sadness as both her face and manner showed. the picture progressed in long spaces of absolute silence, while christine sat as immovable as the sleeping child near by. it seemed to noel, in spite of his inexperience, that the child lay more in a state of stupor than sleep, and that its prostration argued the very lowest degree of vitality, but christine seemed satisfied when he was asleep and so noel made no comment.

during the sitting that day he asked christine if he would prove himself a nuisance to either her or her husband if he sometimes called in the evening. to the first part of the inquiry she replied that she would be glad to see him, and to the latter, with a sort of hopeless wonder, that mr. dallas would not mind.

noel went once, and once only. the visit was too painful to himself, and he felt also to christine, to be repeated. the hideous barrenness of the place seemed an outrage to her delicacy and made the refinement of her beauty seem cruelly out of place. but more than all, when noel looked on the untidy negligence and brutal insensibility of the man who was at liberty to call her wife, and whom she acknowledged as husband, he felt it unbearable. he was even worse than he remembered him. formerly he had, at least, dressed well and kept up the forms of civility. noel could imagine that he was now glad to be rid of the trouble. he did not even care to be particular about his person since he was now in a position where that bother could be dispensed with.

as soon as noel began to talk to christine dallas filled his pipe and went off to the table to play solitaire. noel fancied that the smell of the rank tobacco, which was unimproved in quality, made the poor girl sick. it was a relief when dallas got up after a while, and shoving the cards together in a heap left the room. then noel inquired for the baby. somehow he always shrank from speaking of it before dallas.

“he is asleep up-stairs. eliza is with him: he is better,” said christine, “but the doctor says there is no certainty until the hot weather is over. oh, it’s selfish of me to want him to live,” she added, with a sudden agitation in her voice, “but it isn’t that; it isn’t life i want for him—only to keep him with me—to be where he is. if i could—”

she broke off huskily, and noel, out of pity for her, got up and walked to the other end of the little room. when he got back she had recovered, and said with a smile:

“i am out of patience with myself for being gloomy now. you will think me such a poor coward. the baby is better and i will try to be bright. i said in my [pg 117]prayers to god that if he would let my baby get better i would be happy, and ask for nothing else. but what do you think this is?” she added, with a change of tone, drawing something from her pocket and holding it hid in her closed hand.

“i can’t imagine,” said noel, full of delight to see that look of interest and amusement on her face.

“a present for you from me! isn’t that funny? it isn’t anything very valuable and perhaps you won’t care for it, but i have a feeling that i want you to have it. it’s the cross of the legion of honor, which belonged to my grandfather. my mother left it to me among some trinkets of hers, which have all been sold. don’t look sorry about it; you don’t know how little it matters now! this i could never have sold, and besides it is worth very little really—but i felt i wanted you to have it. will you let me give it to you?”

she opened her hand and held it out to him with the cross lying on the palm. noel was deeply touched.

“i never really expected to be decorated,” he said, “but there is no possible way in which a decoration could come to me that could give me such pride and pleasure as this. take it? i should think so! when i used to dream of being a painter i thought perhaps i’d have a great picture in the salon and get a decoration for it. but i assure you this is better.”

“oh, what pleasant things you say!” said christine. “you make me feel quite happy,” and she held out the cross for him to take.

“i want you to fasten it on,” said noel. “i mean always to wear it. will you pin it here?”

he turned back his coat and christine came close to him and complied with the utmost willingness. the pin was a little blunt or rusted and it took her several seconds to put it in and fasten it. their faces were almost on a level, and noel’s eyes looked closer than they had ever done before at her youthful loveliness. hers were bent in complete absorption upon her task.

when she had fastened the pin she drew backward, still holding open the coat that she might see the cross in its new position. all the time she never looked at noel, but all the time he looked at her.

“thank you,” she said simply.

noel seemed stricken with silence. his mind was confused, and he did not know what to say. and christine, wondering that he did not speak, lifted her large eyes to his face and looked at him questioningly. then noel remembered himself, and in perfect recollectedness and self-possession he took her hands and kissed them, first one and then the other.

“you have made me your knight,” he said. “let me never forget it. i am a knight of the legion of honor. i shall carry this cross about me always to remind me of it. thank you, and bless you, christine.”

then he dropped her hands, and they sat down and fell to talking. for the first time in his recent intercourse with her she was able to speak of general subjects. [pg 120]there was a momentary lull in her anxiety about the baby, and in her release from that recent and heavy burden she felt a rebound from the more remote causes of unhappiness too. so they got into a talk that was easy and almost bright. they spoke together of foreign lands familiar to them both, of music and painting, and all the things from which her present life divided her so completely that, as christine said presently, it was like recalling dreams. and then in the midst of it dallas came in, with his slovenly dress and horrible pipe, and christine, with an awful look of recollectedness, came back to reality. it was impossible to take this man into a talk like theirs, and noel quickly said good-night.