not aware, then, that if he goes to America,
Natalie will go also?"

She had spoken quickly, breathlessly, not taking much notice of her
words, but she was appalled by the effect they produced. Lind started,
as if he had been struck; and for a second, as he regarded her, the eyes
set under the heavy brows burnt like coals, and she noticed a curious
paleness in his face, especially in the lips. But this lasted only for
an instant. When he spoke, he was quite calm, and was apparently
considering each word.

"Are you authorized to bring me this message?" he said, slowly.

"Oh no; oh no!" the little woman exclaimed. "I assure you, my dear
friend, I came to you because I thought something was about to
happen--something that might be prevented. Ah, you don't know how I love
that darling child; and to see her unhappy, and resolved, perhaps, to
make some great mistake in her life, how could I help interfering?"

"So," continued Lind, apparently weighing every word, "this is what she
is bent on! If Brand goes to America, she will go with him?"

"I--I--am afraid so," stammered Madame Potecki. "That is what I gathered
from her--though it was only an imaginary case she spoke of. But she was
pale, and trembling, and how could I stand by and not do something?"

He did not answer; his lips were firm set. Unconsciously he was pressing
the point of the paper-knife into the leather; it snapped in two. He
threw the pieces aside, and said, with a sudden lightness of manner,

"Ah, well, my dear madame, you know young people are sometimes very
headstrong, and difficult to manage. We must see what can be done in
this case. You have not told Natalie you were coming to me?"

"No. She asked me at first; then she said she would tell you herself."

He regarded her for a second.

"There is no reason why you should say you have been here?"

"Perhaps not, perhaps not," Madame Potecki said, doubtfully. "No; there
is no necessity. But if one were sure that the dear child were to be
made any happier--"

She did not complete the sentence.

"I think you may leave the whole affair in my hands, my dear Madame
Potecki," said Lind, in his usual courteous fashion. He spoke, indeed,
as if it were a matter of the most trifling importance. "I think I can
promise you that Natalie shall not be allowed to imperil the happiness
of her life by taking any rash steps. In the mean time, I am your debtor
that you have come and told me. It was considerate of