in Vannes a little longer," she said. "I did not tell
you, but--my mother is buried there. That was why I
came; I should like to be with her."

"Why, of course, dear. As long as you like," he said
affectionately.
"I will not detain you long. Perhaps only a week or
two," she said.

He nodded, and began to whistle cheerfully again.
Frances looked at Lisa, and her eyes filled with tears.
It was a pitiful tragedy!

But the poor girl was quite right not to worry George
until the last moment. She was blocking his way--ruining
his life, and God was taking her away so that she could
no longer harm him.

And yet--poor Lisa!

They drove on. The sun warmed the crimson fields, and
the birds chirped, and this was George's child creeping
close to her breast. It stirred there a keen pang of
joy.

Surely He had forgiven her.

A month later a group of passengers in deep mourning
stood apart on the deck of the Paris as she left the
dock at Liverpool. It was George Waldeaux, his mother,