tell him we couldn't raise no such sum.' The next proposition was that she should permit them to use a great part of her stocks and bonds John left me quite consid'able property '-as security for a large loan which they wished to negotiate. They promised to give her papers back within two weeks, as they were simply to be used as collateral. MM. Lamballe and Blanc would give a satisfactory receipt for the papers when taken; it involved no risk, Julie said.

'But I wa'n't so sure,' said Mrs. Weston, with a gleam of resolution in her pale-blue eye, and I told 'em the papers shouldn't go. Then the' was great doin's! Julie had hysterics; it's somethin' she's caught here, for she never had 'em to home. Maude flew at me and told me that I was an unnatural mother, and that I wanted to see 'em dvin' of broken hearts."

'When did this happen?' asked Mrs. Faunce, aware that some deeper tragedy than mere money trouble lay under the hopeless sadness of the old face.

'This mornin',' was the answer. It seems a long time ago, and I'm beginnin' to feel holler. You don't suppose there's a place anywhere round here where I could get a bite of somethin', maybe a bit of lemon pie? That's always tasty when you ain't feelin' well, and I ain't had any for eighteen months.'

The old Irish lady hastily produced from under her silk wrap a little basket, which she hospitably opened.

"Tis me luncheon that I had entirely forgotten, and sorry I am that it isn't lemon pie. You see, I ran away for the day; my household was too much for me.'

'I'm beholden to you,' said Mrs. Weston, a dainty roll in one hand, a bunch of grapes in the other. 'Oh, the girls told me I mustn't say that.' Then her voice sank to a whisper: 'I've run away too!'

6

There's a pair of us!' cried Mrs. Faunce; here's to our good luck!' and she pressed upon her guest a tiny glass of red wine.

'I'm temperance,' came the simple refusal. 'I come from the State of Maine.'

Food brought a slight flush to Mrs. Weston's cheek; she drew confidentially nearer her hostess, holding up a little black cloth bag heavy with papers.

'I had a hard time gettin' away. You see, they found me puttin' my stocks and bonds into this.'

'Sure, you never keep 'em in the house with you!' cried Mrs.

Faunce, shocked at discovering in another her own reckless methods of financiering.

'Allus,' was the answer. 'I kep' 'em in the Bible. It's the Family Bible John and I used for twenty-five years. You see, the' was gaps in it where the leaves was gone. Julie, she had a bad temper, and once, when she was little, somethin' crossed her, and she tore out a whole handful of leaves from " Deuteronomy." Then Maude cut out some of the gospels to make paper dolls; I felt real bad about that. Well, I thought it was a good safe place, and when we came over here, I put my certificates and things into the gaps, and tied it up with a string. We haven't used the Bible what with my havin' a pocket Testament, and Julie never havin' family prayers. She says you just can't have 'em in a flat. I told her this mornin',' said the old lady mildly, that if she'd read her Bible she'd have found out sooner where I kep' mypapers.'

'Hid treasures,' murmured the listener. How did she find out?'

'I was packin' 'em in here, thinkin' I'd have to go away somewhere by myself for a while, and she came in pretty sudden. First thing I knew, she yelled right out behind me; then she took a hold of the Bible, and I kep' a hold of it, and she pulled, and it come right in two. I felt real bad, for John and I had used it so long. The tears that she dried from her eyes were not all because of the torn Bible. She, she threatened me; I don't like to tell you what she said, but I was afraid of her; for she was in one of her old tantrums, and she told me if I didn't care anything about my own flesh and blood I'd better go away and stay. Maude was there by that time, and she looked kind of ashamed, but she didn't say a word. You see, the girls took it hard that their pa left everything to me, but of course I was only keepin' it till they got old enough to take care of it. So I took what I had and come away; Julie had a lot in "Epistles" and "Revelation," but I guess I've got enough to keep me. I s'pose they can sell the bonds; they ain't got any name on them.'

'Look!' whispered Mrs. Faunce, suddenly.

A smart trap was driving past them; the two people in it, bending close together, saw no one else.

'Why, it's Mo'seer Lamballe!' cried the little old lady, fixing her eyes upon the woman at his side, whose painted face, bleached hair, and purple-velvet costume were eloquent.

'He kissed her!' said Mrs. Weston, indignantly, and him payin' attention to Maude. What do you think of her?'

'I'd rather not say,' answered Mrs. Faunce.

'She's real dressy,' said the lady from Maine, regretfully, a mother's solicitude in her voice. You think he means to marry this one?'

'I've no opinion in regard to that,' answered Mrs. Faunce drily, 'but from what I've heard, the establishment he has set up for her constitutes the business crisis you've been speakin' of.'

A thin red blush mounted over the wrinkled cheeks of the little old lady to the roots of her yellow-grey hair as she slowly understood. 'Somebody must tell Maude,' she faltered.

'I'll tell Maude,' said Mrs. Faunce, rising, and standing at her full regal height, and now, we've much to do, and we'd better be about it.'

An empty cab, going Paris-ward, was hailed, and soon the two were rolling over one of the shaded driveways. As they passed a group of children playing about their nurse, tenderness crept into Mrs. Weston's eyes, and transfigured her plain little face.

'Look!' she cried. Ain't they too sweet! If they was mine I'd knit 'em some nice woollen stockings to cover their bare knees. You know, everything would have been different if Julie had had children, and now we are in this dreadful trouble. But God is good; He will help us out.'

A sudden flash came into Mrs. Faunce's eyes, a gleam that shone there only when her genius was finding some way of remoulding the universe nearer her heart's desire. Here at last was the person for whom she had been long searching to mother the orphans of the Open Door!

'All my life I've wanted grandchildren terribly,' the little old lady was murmuring. When my own was little I was too busy to

play with 'em or to take care of 'em. I just kep' lookin' at the Boston rocker, and thinkin' how I'd sit in it and rock my grandchildren when they come, but they didn't come.'

Of the shadow and sunshine of that drive, the rumbling of wheels, the tramp of feet, the swift glimpse of the flamboyant Victory upon the Arc de Triomphe, Mrs. Faunce knew nothing. She heard only the long waves breaking on the Riviera shore, along the yellow sands, with the sweet insistent call of the south; while overhead, a flock of migrating birds, flying in long lines against the gray-blue sky, brought her a sudden free sense, as of wings at her shoulders.

'Where are we going now?' asked Mrs. Weston timidly. 'You said that your daughter's address was 15 Rue de Roland, didn't you?'

'Oh,' shivered the mother,' ain't you afraid?'

A gay laugh was the only answer, as the carriage at last stopped before a substantial apartment house, in a wide and sunny street.

'I've always thought it would have been better if Julie had had a little house of her own,' said Julie's mother, as she tremblingly alighted. Lots of women has been saved by havin' a bay window that would let 'em look down the village street.'

The flunkey who opened the door grinned impertinently when he saw Mrs. Weston, then covered his mouth with his hand and coughed apologetically as he caught sight of the majestic old Irish lady. With her head held erect, like that of a conquering general, she swept past him into the corridor.

'I say, the mistress gave orders that nobody was to be let in this afternoon. She's got something particular on hand.'

But already a trumpet-toned voice was resounding through the apartment.

'Regan, Goneril! Come here!'

'Now whatever does the old party mean by that?' he muttered, wide-eyed with wonder, as he backed discreetly away from a situation that had passed beyond his hands. There was a rustle of silken skirts; from behind a heavy portière appeared a handsome, dark-haired woman, a rising flush of mingled fear and anger in her face. Even as she made her advance upon the salon, Mrs. Faunce noted the provincial emphasis on the extreme in the red and yellow house-gown, and in the huge coiffure of over-puffed hair.

'What has brought you here?' demanded the mistress of the house, shrilly. With her heavy scowling eyebrows she looked a formidable antagonist.

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and your mother's

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'We've come for the "Book of Revelation securities, Regan,' said Mrs. Faunce calmly. the shopwoman,' she added to herself, and the background is in keeping.' The salon, with its display of pink and scarlet satin, of tawdry lace and showy bric-a-brac might easily have offended taste less fastidious than that of the old Irish lady.

'You insolent thing!' gasped Julia Weston Foster; then, for the first time, she discovered her mother's little form, shrinking behind the folds of the portière, and she made a convulsive effort at self-control.

'I'm much obliged to you, I'm sure, for bringing my mother back. She left us this morning against my will. She's not quite right here, you know,' and the daughter tapped her forehead significantly.

'And you, Regan, I judge,' said Mrs. Faunce, putting her hand upon her heart and bowing slightly, are not quite right here.'

The angry flush on the woman's face deepened to crimson, and she spoke in fury.

'So you have found out that she has money, and you are planning to rob her!'

'You must not judge others too much by yourself,' said the old Irish lady, good-humouredly, and I'm afraid we've caught you in the very act. Now, unless that half of your mother's Bible has already been given to M. Blanc, will you kindly produce it?'

'I don't know what you mean,' stammered Julia.

'Oh yes, you do, Regan! And if here isn't Goneril!' A younger woman had appeared, fair-haired, weak, a curious repetition in large of the mother, with the sweetness left out of the face.

'Mother!' cried the elder daughter, in a frightened voice: 'Where did you pick up this crazy woman?'

'She ain't crazy,' said Mrs. Weston, stoutly. 'I know about those names if you don't. They're in a play by William Shakespeare, that your Pa and I read together, about two daughters that took their father's property, and turned him out doors.'

'I won't stay to listen to such talk!' cried the young matron. Come, Maude!' and she somewhat roughly led her sister away. Mrs. Faunce's eyes were full of whimsical pity as she watched the lagging village walk, the mistaken elegance of their clothes, and she thought to herself that the two ought to be at home, taking icecream sodas with their rustic escorts. To what outside edge of Parisian life they had found their way, she wondered, too ignorant to detect the counterfeit ?

At the door, Maude paused, some natural emotion struggling with the sullenness of her expression. Had it not been for the remorseless blue of her fantastically cut gown she would almost have been pretty.

'I'm sure we've tried to take good care of mother,' she ventured to Mrs. Faunce.

'Stop, both of you,' commanded that lady, with the manner of some ancient Irish queen. Mrs. Foster, I give you five minutes in