ble query, and answered it vaguely.

"Away."

"They might have told a fellow good-by," Victor brooded.

"They--they forgot, perhaps."

"I don't think that was very nice of them," Bettina pouted.

Victor was more cheerful. "Perhaps they did; perhaps they kissed us
while we was asleep--_were_ asleep."

Bettina accepted with delight.

"Seems to me I 'member somebody kissin' me. Yes, I 'member now."

Victor was skeptical. "Maybe you only had a dream about it."

"What else is there?" said Mr. Verrinder, rising and patting Victor on
the shoulder. "You'd better run along to your tubs now."

They recognized the authority in his voice and obeyed.

The children took their beauty with them, but left their destiny to be
arranged by higher powers, the gods of Eld.

"What is to become of them," Louise groaned again, "when I go to
prison?"

Verrinder was calm. "Sir Joseph's will doubtless left the bulk of his
fortune to them. That will provide for their finances. And they have
two grandparents left. The Oakbys will surely be glad to take the
children in, especially as they will come with such fortunes."

"You mean that I am to have no more to do with them?"

"I think it would be best to remove them to a more strictly English
influence."

This hurt her horribly. She grew impatient for the finishing blow.

"And now that they are disposed of, have you decided what's to become
of me?"

"It is not for me to decide. By the by, have you any one to represent
you or intercede for you here, or act as your counsel in England?"

She shook her head. "A good many people have been very nice to me, of
course. I've noticed, though, that even they grew cold and distant of
late. I'd rather die than ask any of them."

"But have you no relatives living--no one of importance in the States
who could vouch for you?"

She shook her head with a doleful humility.

"None of our family were ever important that I ever heard of, though
of course one never knows what relatives are lurking about. Mine will
never claim me; that's certain. I did have a sister--poor thing!--if
she's alive. We didn't get along very well. I was too wild and
restless as a girl. She was very good, hard-working, simple, homely as
sin--or homely as virtue. I was all for adventure. I've had my fill of
it. But once you begin it, you can't stop when you've had enough. If
she's not dead, she's probably married and living under another
name--Heaven knows what name or wh