ina! my own people in Paris shall make
her dresses. Well, Mr. Mool?"

"Allow me to read the exact language of the Will next," Mr. Mool
answered. "'If her sweet disposition leads her into exceeding her
allowance, in the pursuit of her own little charities, my Trustees are
hereby authorized, at their own discretion, to increase the amount,
within the limit of another five hundred pounds annually.' It sounds
presumptuous, perhaps, on my part," said Mr. Mool, venturing on a modest
confession of enthusiasm, "but one can't help thinking, What a good
father! what a good child!"

Mrs. Gallilee had another appropriate remark ready on her lips, when the
unlucky dog interrupted her once more. He made a sudden rush into the
conservatory, barking with all his might. A crashing noise followed the
dog's outbreak, which sounded like the fall of a flower-pot.

Ovid hurried into the conservatory--with the dog ahead of him, tearing
down the steps which led into the back garden.

The pot lay broken on the tiled floor. Struck by the beauty of the
flower that grew in it, he stooped to set it up again. If, instead of
doing this, he had advanced at once to the second door, he would have
seen a lady hastening into the house; and, though her back view only was
presented, he could hardly have failed to recognize Miss Minerva. As it
was, when he reached the door, the garden was empty.

He looked up at the house, and saw Carmina at the open window of her
bedroom.

The sad expression on that sweet young face grieved him. Was she
thinking of her happy past life? or of the doubtful future, among
strangers in a strange country? She noticed Ovid--and her eyes
brightened. His customary coldness with women melted instantly: he
kissed his hand to her. She returned the salute (so familiar to her
in Italy) with her gentle smile, and looked back into the room. Teresa
showed herself at the window. Always following her impulses without
troubling herself to think first, the duenna followed them now. "We are
dull up here," she called out. "Come back to us, Mr. Ovid." The words
had hardly been spoken before they both turned from the window. Teresa
pointed significantly into the room. They disappeared.

Ovid went back to the library.

"Anybody listening?" Mr. Mool inquired.

"I have not discovered anybody, but I doubt if a stray cat could have
upset that heavy flower-pot." He looked round him as he made the reply.
"Where is my mother?" he asked.

Mrs.