know that she was acquainted with you. I suppose she saw a pretty
little girl getting around without a doll after I had gone, and sent
her, but--"

Suddenly between the young man's face and the girl's flashed a look
of intelligence. Suddenly Robert remembered all that he had heard of
Ellen's childish escapade. He _knew_. He looked from her to the
doll, and back again. "Good Lord!" he said. Then he set the doll
down in her little chair all of a heap, and caught Ellen's hand, and
shook it.

"You are a trump, that is what you are," he said; "a trump. So
she--" He shook his head, and looked at Ellen, dazedly. She did not
say a word, but looked at him with her lips closed tightly.

"It is better for you not to tell me anything," he said; "I don't
want to know. I don't understand, and I never want to, how it all
happened, but I do understand that you are a trump. How old were
you?" Robert's voice took on a tone of tenderness.

"Eight," replied Ellen, faintly.

"Only a baby," said the young man, "and you never told! I would like
to know where there is another baby who would do such a thing." He
caught her hand and shook it again. "She was like a mother to me,"
he said, in a husky voice. "I think a good deal of her. I thank
you."

Suddenly to the young man looking at the girl a conviction as of
some subtle spiritual perfume came; he had seen her beauty before,
he had realized her charm, but this was something different. A
boundless approbation and approval which was infinitely more
precious than admiration seized him. Her character began to reveal
itself, to come in contact with his own; he felt the warmth of it
through the veil of flesh. He felt a sense of reliance as upon an
inexhaustibility of goodness in another soul. He felt something
which was more than love, being purely unselfish, with as yet no
desire of possession. "Here is a good, true woman," he said to
himself. "Here is a good, true woman, who has blossomed from a good,
true child." He saw a wonderful faithfulness shining in her blue
eyes, he saw truth itself on her lips, and could have gone down at
the feet of the little girl in the pink cotton frock. Going home he
tried to laugh at himself, but could not succeed. It is easy to
shake off the clasp of a hand of flesh, but not the clasp of another
soul.

Ellen on her part was at once overwhelmed with delight and
confusion. She felt the fervor of admiration in the young man's
attitude towards her, but