hat we are not reckoned worthy or capable of the domestic
affections."

"You do not believe--you cannot believe," she murmured, "that there are
many people who are so foolish! It is the dwellers in the world who are
mummers--those who live their foolish, orderly lives with their eyes
closed, and oppressed all the while with a nervous fear of what their
neighbours are thinking of them. Those are the mummers--but you--you,
Monsieur, are Feurgeres--the artist! You make music on the heartstrings
of the world!"

For myself I was astonished. I had not often seen Isobel so deeply
moved. I had never known her so ready, so earnest of speech. But
Feurgeres was almost agitated. For the first time I saw him without the
mask of his perfect self-control. His cheeks were flushed, his eyes were
soft as a woman's. He raised Isobel's hand to his lips, and his voice,
when he spoke, shook with real emotion.

"You are the daughter of your mother, dear Isobel," he said. "Beyond
that, what is there that I can say--I, who loved her!"

"You can tell me about her," Isobel said gently. "That is what I have
been hoping for!"

"A little, a very little," he answered, "and more to-night, if you will.
I have already written to Mr. Greatson, and I meant in a few hours to
tell him everything. But I would have you know this, Isobel, and
remember it always. Your mother was a holy woman. For my sake, for the
sake of the love she bore me, she abandoned a great position. She broke
down all the barriers of race, and all the conventions of a lifetime.
She lost every friend she had in the world; she even, perhaps, in some
measure, neglected her duty to you. Yet you were seldom out of her
thoughts, and her last words committed you to my distant care. I have,
perhaps, ill-fulfilled her charge, Isobel. Yet I have been watching over
you sometimes when you have not known it."

"You were my saviour once," she said, "you and Arnold here, when I
sorely needed help."

"I came from America at a moment's notice," he said, "when it seemed to
me that you might need my help. I broke the greatest contract I had ever
signed, and I placed my liberty, if not my life, at the mercy of your
wonderful police system. But those things count for little. I have been
forced, Isobel, to leave you very much to yourself. You come of a race
who would regard any association with me as defilement. And there is
always the chance that you may be able to take your proper position in
the