the
sudden deep interest which possessed me. I dashed the things off the
sofa, beat the dust from it, desired him to wait one moment while I
rushed to my bed to ravish it of its pillow. Then with the sight of the
bed (I was buying my experience) I knew that that, and not the sofa, was
the place for the child, and said so.

"Put him here, do put him here!" I besought, earnestly. "He will sleep
for a time here, won't he?"

"You are very good," said my visitor, hesitating a moment.

"Put him there!" said I, flushed with excitement, and with the hitherto
unknown joy of being able to offer hospitality.

Courvoisier looked meditatively at me for a short time then laid the
child upon the bed, and arranged the plaid around it as skillfully and
as quickly as a woman would have done it.

"How clever he must be," I thought, looking at him with awe, and with
little less awe contemplating the motionless child.

"Wouldn't you like something to put over him?" I asked, looking
excitedly about. "I have an overcoat. I'll lend it you." And I was
rushing off to fetch it, but he laughingly laid his hand upon my arm.

"Let him alone," said he; "he's all right."

"He won't fall off, will he?" I asked, anxiously.

"No; don't be alarmed. Now, if you will be so good, we will see about
the rooms."

"Dare you leave him?" I asked, still with anxiety, and looking back as
we went toward the door.

"I dare because I must," replied he.

He closed the door, and we went down-stairs to seek the persons in
authority. Courvoisier related his business and condition, and asked
to see rooms. The woman hesitated when she heard there was a child.

"The child will never trouble you, madame," said he, quietly, but rather
as if the patience of his look were forced.

"No, never!" I added, fervently. "I will answer for that, Frau Schmidt."

A quick glance, half gratitude, half amusement, shot from his eyes as
the woman went on to say that she only took gentlemen lodgers, and could
not do with ladies, children, and nurse-maids. They wanted so much
attending to, and she did not profess to open her house to them.

"You will not be troubled with either lady or nurse-maid," said he. "I
take charge of the child myself. You will not know that he is in the
house."

"But your wife--" she began.

"There will be no one but myself and my little boy," he replied, ever
politely, but ever, as it seemed, to me, with repressed pain or
irritation.

"So!" said