ther to sleep yet?" Mrs. Presty inquired.

Kitty shook her head. "Mamma wants to go away tomorrow, and no physic
will make her sleep till she has seen you, and settled about it. That's
what she told me to say. If _I_ behaved in that way about my physic, I
should catch it."

Mrs. Presty left the room; watched by her granddaughter with an
appearance of anxiety which it was not easy to understand.

"What's the matter?" Mr. Sarrazin asked. "You look very serious to-day."

Kitty held up a warning hand. "Grandmamma sometimes listens at doors,"
she whispered; "I don't want her to hear me." She waited a little
longer, and then approached Mr. Sarrazin, frowning mysteriously. "Take
me up on your knee," she said. "There's something wrong going on in this
house."

Mr. Sarrazin took her on his knee, and rashly asked what had gone wrong.
Kitty's reply puzzled him.

"I go to mamma's room every morning when I wake," the child began. "I
get into her bed, and I give her a kiss, and I say 'Good-morning'--and
sometimes, if she isn't in a hurry to get up, I stop in her bed, and
go to sleep again. Mamma thought I was asleep this morning. I wasn't
asleep--I was only quiet. I don't know why I was quiet."

Mr. Sarrazin's kindness still encouraged her. "Well," he said, "and what
happened after that?"

"Grandmamma came in. She told mamma to keep up her spirits. She says,
'It will all be over in a few hours more.' She says, 'What a burden
it will be off your mind!' She says, 'Is that child asleep?' And mamma
says, 'Yes.' And grandmamma took one of mamma's towels. And I thought
she was going to wash herself. What would _you_ have thought?"

Mr. Sarrazin began to doubt whether he would do well to discuss Mrs.
Presty's object in taking the towel. He only said, "Go on."

"Grandmamma dipped it into the water-jug," Kitty continued, with a grave
face; "but she didn't wash herself. She went to one of mamma's boxes.
Though she's so old, she's awfully strong, I can tell you. She rubbed
off the luggage-label in no time. Mamma says, 'What are you doing that
for?' And grandmamma says--this is the dreadful thing that I want you
to explain; oh, I can remember it all; it's like learning lessons, only
much nicer--grandmamma says, 'Before the day's over, the name on your
boxes will be your name no longer.'"

Mr. Sarrazin now became aware of the labyrinth into which his young
friend had innocently led him. The Divorce, and the wife's inevitable
return (