The opera that evening was Carmen , and he chose the last entr’acte to break the news, instinctively putting it off till the latest moment.

She took it quietly, queerly; in fact, he did not know how she had taken it before the wayward music lifted up again and silence became necessary. The mask was down over her face, that mask behind which so much went on that he could not see. She wanted time to think it over, no doubt! He would not press her, for she would be coming to give her lesson tomorrow afternoon, and he should see her then when she had got used to the idea. In the cab he talked only of the Carmen ; he had seen better in the old days, but this one was not bad at all. When he took her hand to say good night, she bent quickly forward and kissed his forehead.

“Goodbye, dear Uncle Jolyon, you have been so sweet to me.”