the rooms, she quickly took from her pocketbook the bank-notes
with which she had provided herself, and folded them so that they could
be easily concealed in her hand.

She followed the widow into the little room.

The boy was sitting on his bed. He laid down his flageolet and bowed to
Stella. His long silky hair flowed to his shoulders. But one betrayal
of a deranged mind presented itself in his delicate face--his large soft
eyes had the glassy, vacant look which it is impossible to mistake. "Do
you like music, mademoiselle?" he asked, gently. Stella asked him to
play his little vaudeville air again. He proudly complied with the
request. His sister seemed to resent the presence of a stranger. "The
work is at a standstill," she said--and passed into the front room.
Her mother followed her as far as the door, to give her some necessary
directions. Stella seized her opportunity. She put the bank-notes into
the pocket of the boy's jacket, and whispered to him: "Give them to your
mother when I have gone away." Under those circumstances, she felt sure
that Madame Marillac would yield to the temptation. She could resist
much--but she could not resist her son.

The boy nodded, to show that he understood her. The moment after he
laid down his flageolet with an expression of surprise.

"You are trembling!" he said. "Are you frightened?"

She _was_ frightened. The mere sense of touching him had made her
shudder. Did she feel a vague presentiment of some evil to come from
that momentary association with him?

Madame Marillac, turning away again from her daughter, noticed Stella's
agitation. "Surely, my poor boy doesn't alarm you?" she said. Before
Stella could answer, some one outside knocked at the door. Lady Loring's
servant appeared, charged with a carefully-worded message. "If you
please, miss, a friend is waiting for you below." Any excuse for
departure was welcome to Stella at that moment. She promised to call
at the house again in a few days. Madame Marillac kissed her on the
forehead as she took leave. Her nerves were still shaken by that
momentary contact with the boy. Descending the stairs, she trembled so
that she was obliged to hold by the servant's arm. She was not naturally
timid. What did it mean?

Lady Loring's carriage was waiting at the entrance of the street,
with all the children in the neighborhood assembled to admire it. She
impulsively forestalled the servant in opening the carriage door. "Come
i