he
same time--"

His sister would not hear him. She burst forth again on the madness, the
interference, the intolerable duplicity of Caroline.

"Harriet, you must listen. My dear, you must stop crying. I have
something quite important to say."

"I shall not stop crying," said she. But in time, finding that he would
not speak to her, she did stop.

"Remember that Miss Abbott has done us no harm. She said nothing to him
about the matter. He assumes that she is working with us: I gathered
that."

"Well, she isn't."

"Yes; but if you're careful she may be. I interpret her behaviour thus:
She went to see him, honestly intending to get the child away. In the
note she left me she says so, and I don't believe she'd lie."

"I do."

"When she got there, there was some pretty domestic scene between him
and the baby, and she has got swept off in a gush of sentimentalism.
Before very long, if I know anything about psychology, there will be a
reaction. She'll be swept back."

"I don't understand your long words. Say plainly--"

"When she's swept back, she'll be invaluable. For she has made quite an
impression on him. He thinks her so nice with the baby. You know, she
washed it for him."

"Disgusting!"

Harriet's ejaculations were more aggravating than the rest of her. But
Philip was averse to losing his temper. The access of joy that had come
to him yesterday in the theatre promised to be permanent. He was more
anxious than heretofore to be charitable towards the world.

"If you want to carry off the baby, keep your peace with Miss Abbott.
For if she chooses, she can help you better than I can."

"There can be no peace between me and her," said Harriet gloomily.

"Did you--"

"Oh, not all I wanted. She went away before I had finished
speaking--just like those cowardly people!--into the church."

"Into Santa Deodata's?"

"Yes; I'm sure she needs it. Anything more unchristian--"

In time Philip went to the church also, leaving his sister a little
calmer and a little disposed to think over his advice. What had come
over Miss Abbott? He had always thought her both stable and sincere.
That conversation he had had with her last Christmas in the train to
Charing Cross--that alone furnished him with a parallel. For the second
time, Monteriano must have turned her head. He was not angry with her,
for he was quite indifferent to the outcome of their expedition. He was
only extremely interested.

It was now nearly mi