the pretty matter-of-fact little girl, and laughed with
delight. When had she found any thing so wholesome? It
was a year, too, since she had seen any one who knew
George. Naturally, she began to empty her heart, which
was full of him, to Lucy.

"I have not spoken English for months," she said, smiling
over her coffee. "It is a relief! And you are a friend
of my son's, too?"

"No. A mere acquaintance," said Lucy, with reserve.

"No one could even see George and not understand how
different he is from other men."

"Oh! altogether different!" said Lucy. "Yes, you
understand. And there was that future before
him--when his trouble came. Oh, I've thought of it, and
thought of it, until my head is tired! He fell under
that woman's influence, you see. It was like mesmerism,
or the voodoo curse that the negroes talk of. It came on
me too. Why, there was a time when I despised him.
George!" Her eyes grew full of horror. "I left him, to
live my own life. He has staggered under his burden
alone, and I could have rid him of it. Now there are two
of them."

"Two of them? " said Lucy curiously.

"There is a baby--Pauline Felix's grandson. I beg your