s in
the quilted cushions.

What a blow! The priest had refused to take her child, and at the first
glance had discovered the humiliating truth that she believed to have
thoroughly disguised under the luxurious surroundings of a woman of the
world and of an irreproachable mother.

Her wounded pride recalled with renewed flushes of shame the keen eyes
of the good father. She recalled all her falsehood, all her folly, and
remembered his incredulous smile at almost her first words.

Silent and motionless in the other corner of the carriage sat Jack,
looking sadly at his mother, unable to comprehend her despair. He
vaguely conceived himself to be in fault, the dear little fellow, and
yet was secretly glad that he had not been left at the school.

For a fortnight he had heard of it night and day; his mother had
extorted a promise from him not to weep; his trunk was packed, and all
was ready, and the child's heart was full of trouble; and now at the
last moment he was reprieved.

If his mother had not been in so much trouble now, he would have thanked
her; how happy would he have been curled up at her side, under her
furs, in the little coupe in which they had had so many happy hours
together--hours which were now to be repeated. And Jack thought of
the afternoons in the Bois, of the long drives through the gay city
of Paris--a city so new to both of them, and full of excitement and
interest. A monument, perhaps, or even a mere street incident, delighted
them.

"Look, Jack--"

"Look, mamma--"

They were two children together, and together they peered from the
window,--the child's head with its golden curls close to the mother's
face tightly veiled in black lace.

A despairing cry from Madame de Barancy aroused the boy from all these
sweet recollections. "_Mon dieu!_" she cried, wringing her hands, "what
have I done to be so wretched?"

This exclamation naturally elicited no response, and little Jack, not
knowing what to say, or how to console her, timidly caressed her hand,
even at last kissing it with the fervor of a lover.

She started and looked wildly at him.

"Ah! cruel, cruel child, what harm you have done me in this world!"

Jack turned pale. "I? What have I done?"

He loved but one person on the face of the earth, his mother. He thought
her absolutely perfect; and without knowing it, he had injured her in
some mysterious way. The poor child was now overwhelmed with despair
also, but remained utterly