driver, "To the Berkeley Flats, on Fifth Avenue." He picked
the child up gently in his arms as the carriage started, and
sat looking out thoughtfully and anxiously as they flashed
past the lighted shop-windows on Broadway. He was far from
certain of this errand, and nervous with doubt, but he
reassured himself that he was acting on impulse, and that his
impulses were so often good. The hall-boy at the Berkeley
said, yes, Mr. Caruthers was in, and Van Bibber gave a quick
sigh of relief. He took this as an omen that his impulse was
a good one. The young English servant who opened the hall
door to Mr. Caruthers's apartment suppressed his surprise with
an effort, and watched Van Bibber with alarm as he laid the
child on the divan in the hall, and pulled a covert coat from
the rack to throw over her.

"Just say Mr. Van Bibber would like to see him," he said,
"and you need not speak of the little girl having come with
me."

She was still sleeping, and Van Bibber turned down the
light in the hall, and stood looking down at her gravely while
the servant went to speak to his master.

"Will you come this way, please, sir?" he said.

"You had better stay out here," said Van Bibber, "and
come and tell me if she wakes."

Mr. Caruthers was standing by the mantel over the empty
fireplace, wrapped in a long, loose dressing-gown which he was