friend. If you live to grow up, I hope you will
never be such a miserable woman as I am." She suddenly looked round at
Mr. Rayburn. "Have you got a wife at home?" she asked.

"My wife is dead."

"And _you_ have a child to comfort you! Please leave me; you harden my
heart. Oh, sir, don't you understand? You make me envy you!"

Mr. Rayburn was silent when he and his daughter were out in the street
again. Lucy, as became a dutiful child, was silent, too. But there are
limits to human endurance--and Lucy's capacity for self-control gave way
at last.

"Are you thinking of the lady, papa?" she said.

He only answered by nodding his head. His daughter had interrupted him
at that critical moment in a man's reflections, when he is on the point
of making up his mind. Before they were at home again Mr. Rayburn had
arrived at a decision. Mrs. Zant's brother-in-law was evidently ignorant
of any serious necessity for his interference--or he would have made
arrangements for immediately repeating his visit. In this state of
things, if any evil happened to Mrs. Zant, silence on Mr. Rayburn's part
might be indirectly to blame for a serious misfortune. Arriving at that
conclusion, he decided upon running the risk of being rudely received,
for the second time, by another stranger.

Leaving Lucy under the care of her governess, he went at once to
the address that had been written on the visiting-card left at the
lodging-house, and sent in his name. A courteous message was returned.
Mr. John Zant was at home, and would be happy to see him.

IV.

MR. RAYBURN was shown into one of the private sitting-rooms of the
hotel.

He observed that the customary position of the furniture in a room
had been, in some respects, altered. An armchair, a side-table, and
a footstool had all been removed to one of the windows, and had been
placed as close as possible to the light. On the table lay a large open
roll of morocco leather, containing rows of elegant little instruments
in steel and ivory. Waiting by the table, stood Mr. John Zant. He said
"Good-morning" in a bass voice, so profound and so melodious that those
two commonplace words assumed a new importance, coming from his lips.
His personal appearance was in harmony with his magnificent voice--he
was a tall, finely-made man of dark complexion; with big brilliant black
eyes, and a noble curling beard, which hid the whole lower part of his
face. Having bowed with a happy mingling of dignity a