t thrown you away from me that night, that I--"
her eyes filled with tears.

"Yes, indeed; I know you take an interest in us both," was his cordial
reply. "And it makes me wish that you were safe with us in America,
where you would never see trouble nor suffer hardship any more. Say you
will go."

"Could I work?" she said eagerly. "Could I sew, make dresses, do
anything to be useful to Miss Dorothy? My ambition of late has been to
go back to England and set up for a dressmaker, and some day have a
large place, with girls to help me; but that would be impossible--life
is so hard for poor folk here in Europe. I feel as if I would do
anything to see Miss Dorothy."

"But you can have America, and Miss Dorothy, and the dressmaking
establishment, or whatever you please," Don pursued with enthusiasm;
"only be ready to sail by an early steamer. And since you go for our
sakes, and to satisfy my uncle, you must let us pay all the cost and
ever so much more. Think what joy you give us all in proving, without a
doubt, that Dorothy is--Dorothy."

"I will go," she said.

* * * * *

That same day Donald again flew up the long flight of stairs in the Rue
Soudiere. He had, meantime, secured a room in some hotel recommended to
him by M. Bajeau, and already had received a letter there that had
filled him with pleasant expectation. It was this letter that now sent
him back to ask Madame Rene if he might call that evening and bring a
friend.

"A friend?" Madame Rene looked troubled. Donald, to her, was her own boy
almost; but a stranger!--that would be quite different. She glanced
anxiously around, first at the shabby apartment, and then at her own
well-worn gown--but Mr. Donald, she thought, would know what was best to
do. So, with a little Frenchy shrug of her shoulders, and a gesture of
resignation, she said, "Oh, certainly"--and that she would be much
pleased.

The evening visit was a success in every way, excepting one. The _bonne_
of former days did not at first recognize the "friend," M. Bajeau,
though at the first sight he was certain that this tall, comely woman
was the veritable person who had come with Mrs. Reed and the pink-faced
twins into his little shop. But she remembered the visit perfectly, and
nearly all that happened on that day. She recalled, too, that Mrs. Reed
had intended to have the baby's full name, Dorothy, engraved upon the
clasp, and that on account of the smallness of t