might be still living. Can you give up all hope of finding her,
without feeling your heart ache?"

"If I have done her wrong, in believing that she deserted me," he
answered, "the heart-ache is but a poor way of expressing the
remorse that I should feel."

I ventured nearer still.

Even if you were right," I began--"even it she did desert you--"

He interrupted me sternly. "I would not cross the street to see
her," he said. "A woman who deserts her child is a monster.
Forgive me for speaking so, miss! When I see good mothers and
their children it maddens me when I think of what _my_ childhood
was."

Hearing these words, and watching him attentively while he spoke,
I could see that my silence would be a mercy, not a crime. I
hastened to speak of other things.

"If you decide to leave us," I said, "when shall you go?"

His eyes softened instantly. Little by little the color faded out
of his face as he answered me.

"The General kindly said, when I spoke of leaving my place--" His
voice faltered, and he paused to steady it. "My master," he
resumed, "said that I need not keep my new employer waiting by
staying for the customary month, provided--provided you were