of soul. I do not think she knows herself how her effects are
obtained, they grow almost unconsciously, but they result always
in the same strange delineation of character. It was so impossible
to ignore this exceptional gift that we procured for her the best
teacher in Paris, and continued her lessons even after--" She stopped
abruptly and Craven finished the broken sentence.

"Even after the fees ceased," he said dryly. "For how many years
has my ward lived on your charity, Reverend Mother?"

She raised a protesting hand.

"Ah--charity. It is hardly the word--" she fenced.

He took out a cheque book.

"How much is owing, for everything?" he said bluntly.

She sought for a book in a bureau standing against the
rosewood panelling and, scanning it, gave a sum with evident
reluctance.

"Gillian has never been told, but it is ten years since
_Monsieur_ Locke paid anything." There was diffidence in her
voice. "In an institution of this kind we are compelled to be
businesslike. It is rare that we can afford to make an exception,
though the temptation is often great. The head and the heart--_voyez,
vous, Monsieur_--they pull in contrary directions." And she
slipped the book back into a pigeon-hole as if the touch of it
was distasteful. She glanced perfunctorily at the cheque he