rubicund Napoleon. "A hardy chap, by Jove. Of course, Madame, you
understand that it will be necessary for you to appear with us before
the proper authorities and sign certain papers, and so forth, before
the baby can be legally adopted by Mrs. Bingle and myself. The law
provides that you and your husband shall release all--"

"Mon dieu!" muttered Madame Rousseau, and as she had uttered the
expression no fewer than twenty times in the past half hour, Mrs.
Bingle was less favourably impressed with her than at the outset. To
Mrs. Bingle "Mon dieu" was blasphemy. "Is not my word sufficient,
m'sieur? I freely give my child to you. I am its mother. No one else
has a right to say what--"

"Ah, but you forget its father," interrupted Mr. Bingle.

"Yes," said Monsieur Jean, amiably. "Has the child's father nothing to
say about--"

"Be quiet, Jean," broke in his wife severely. Then to Rouquin: "You
did not so inform me, M'sieur Rouquin. You told me nothing of this
going into a court or what-you-call-it. I am aghast. Why do you not
tell me of this, M'sieur Rouquin? Is it not enough that I give up my
beloved Napoleon? Am I to be humiliated by revealing my misery, my
despair--"

"Now, now," broke in Mr. Bingle kindly, feeling extremely sorry for
the unfortunate Rouquin, who, after all, was trying to befriend the
woman. The face of the foreign exchange teller was quite livid, no
doubt from the effect of a suppressed indignation. "It is really
nothing to be worried about, Madame. We merely go before a magistrate