little doctor left the place and bought a
practice in Bordeaux, and if there has been any gossip it died out. And
I don't think there could have been much gossip about my lady that any
one would listen to. My lady is so very respectable."

Newman, at this last affirmation, broke into an immense, resounding
laugh. Mrs. Bread had begun to move away from the spot where they were
sitting, and he helped her through the aperture in the wall and
along the homeward path. "Yes," he said, "my lady's respectability is
delicious; it will be a great crash!" They reached the empty space in
front of the church, where they stopped a moment, looking at each
other with something of an air of closer fellowship--like two sociable
conspirators. "But what was it," said Newman, "what was it she did to
her husband? She didn't stab him or poison him."

"I don't know, sir; no one saw it."

"Unless it was Mr. Urbain. You say he was walking up and down, outside
the room. Perhaps he looked through the keyhole. But no; I think that
with his mother he would take it on trust."

"You may be sure I have often thought of it," said Mrs. Bread. "I
am sure she didn't touch him with her hands. I saw nothing on him,
anywhere. I believe it was in this way. He had a fit of his great pain,
and he asked her for his medicine. Instead of giving it to him she went
and poured it away, before his eyes. Then he saw what she meant, and,
weak and helpless as he was, he was frightened, he was terrified. 'You
want to kill me,' he said. 'Yes, M. le Marquis, I want to kill you,'
says my lady, and sits down and fixes her eyes upon him. You know my
lady's eyes, I think, sir; it was with them she killed him; it was
with the terrible strong will she put into them. It was like a frost on
flowers."

"Well, you are a very intelligent woman; you have shown great
discretion," said Newman. "I shall value your services as housekeeper
extremely."

They had begun to descend the hill, and Mrs. Bread said nothing until
they reached the foot. Newman strolled lightly beside her; his head was
thrown back and he was gazing at all the stars; he seemed to himself to
be riding his vengeance along the Milky Way. "So you are serious, sir,
about that?" said Mrs. Bread, softly.

"About your living with me? Why of course I will take care of you to the
end of your days. You can't live with those people any longer. And you
oughtn't to, you know, after this. You give me the paper, and you move
a