enchanted the old man.

"You light up my place, madame," he said; and insisted, with graceful
gestures, that she should not pay for her collection of old miniatures,
necklaces, gilded crystal bottles, illuminated books and ivory crucifixes,
until the day fixed for her departure.

"Once you pay, madame, you may not come again," he smiled. "I am
superstitious. I will not take your money till the last moment."

On the third day, however, Angela decided that she must go. Her father's
country called, with a voice she could hear above the music of the
Southern town, the laughter of the pretty French girls and the chatter of
black and brown babies who babbled a language which was neither French,
Spanish, nor English, but a mixture of all. She bought more things of
Monsieur Bienvenu, and also in other curiosity shops which she dared not
mention to him, since his one failing was a bitter jealousy of rivals.

"Where is my gold bag, Kate? Have you got it?" she asked, when the moment
came to pay a hundred dollars for two or three snuff-boxes, picked up in a
place she had not visited until that day.

"No, ma'am, you had it on yer arm when I noticed last," said Kate, looking
startled. "Fur all the saints, I hope ye haven't lost it!"

Angela, too, began to look anxious. Not only was her bag valuable--worth
seven or eight hundred dollars--but all her money was in it, and a
check-book she had brought out that morning, to pay Monsieur Bienvenu the
rather large sum she owed him. Still, she was not greatly distressed. She
had lost that gold bag so many times, had dropped it from her lap when she